


The Comeback Kid

by emphasisonem



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bucky's an actor, M/M, Mentions of past drug use, Mutual Pining, Nat's his agent, Rated M for eventual sexual content, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Steve's his new publicist
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-28
Updated: 2016-11-03
Packaged: 2018-07-18 22:02:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 18
Words: 46,811
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7332274
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emphasisonem/pseuds/emphasisonem
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I’m sorry, Nat,” Bucky sighs. “I fucked up.”</p><p>“You’re goddamn right you did,” Natasha barks out. “And this time you and I are going to fix it. For real. It’s time you hire a fucking publicist, Barnes. I’ll help. We should have done this years ago.”</p><p>“I don’t need-” Bucky starts, but Natasha cuts him off immediately. </p><p>“Yes, you do,” Natasha says. “And I already have someone in mind. Get your act together and be at my office by four. If you’re late, I’ll chew you out right in front of him, I swear to god.”</p><p>“Ok, I-” Bucky starts, but Natasha’s already hung up. Bucky sighs, pulling the sheets back over his head.  </p><p>  <b>In which Bucky is an actor, Nat is his agent and Steve is the publicist they hire to clean up Bucky's image.</b></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Hire a Fucking Publicist

**Author's Note:**

> I mean, it would be weird if I wasn't working on multiple stories, right? My focus is still going to be on Cool Beans until that's finished, but this idea's been bouncing around in my head and I wanted to get it down and see what kind of reaction it got. Lemme know what you all think :)

Bucky wakes in his penthouse loft in Los Angeles to the buzz of his phone on his bedside table. His head is pounding, and his mouth feels like it’s full of cotton balls and it tastes just awful. He rolls toward the table, his stomach churning violently with the motion.

“Shit,” he grinds out, voice jagged as broken glass on a city street, as he fumbles to grab his cell, finger sliding clumsily to answer the call. “Hello?”

“I oughta fucking kill you, Barnes,” his agent practically growls over the line.

“Oh, hey, Nat,” Bucky groans. “Great to hear from you first thing in the morning. Wonderful way to start my day.”

“First off, asshole, it’s 2 p.m.,” Natasha snaps. “Second, what the _fuck_ were you thinking last night?”

“What are you talking about?” Bucky frowns, rolling onto his back, kicking the sheets off his too-warm body. “I went out with some people working on the film. Not a big deal.”

“What I am talking about is the fact that there are fucking pictures circulating the internet of you and your _very married_ _male co-star_ up against a wall somewhere clearly making out,” Natasha is shouting now, and Bucky wishes she would stop because his head feels a lot like there are little aliens drilling holes into his skull. “That’s what I’m fucking talking about, Bucky. What the fuck were you on last night?”

“Nothing, Nat, Christ,” Bucky groans. “I didn’t take anything, I was just. I was just drunk, I guess. Shit.”

“Shit is right, Barnes,” Natasha’s lowered her volume, but the anger is still in her voice, and Bucky hates it when she’s mad at him. “You’re already a hard to market commodity. Troubled past, complete with drugs. Unpredictable on set. Indiscriminate when it comes to affairs. You know I love you, I put my ass on the line for you regularly, and now you go and make my job even harder.”

“I’m sorry, Nat,” Bucky sighs. “I fucked up.”

“You’re goddamn right you did,” Natasha barks out. “And this time you and I are going to fix it. For real. It’s time you hire a fucking publicist, Barnes. I’ll help. We should have done this years ago.”

“I don’t need-” Bucky starts, but Natasha cuts him off immediately.

“Yes, you do,” Natasha says. “And I already have someone in mind. Get your act together and be at my office by four. If you’re late, I’ll chew you out right in front of him, I swear to god.”

“Ok, I-” Bucky starts, but Natasha’s already hung up. Bucky sighs, pulling the sheets back over his head.

“Shit,” he whispers to himself, and it’s not the first time he wishes he’d never come to Los Angeles. It probably won’t be the last.

 

* * *

 

Bucky stands under the cold spray of his shower, trying to wake himself all the way up and reflecting on how exactly he got to this point in his life. It’s not rock bottom; rock bottom had been about five years ago. But he can’t quite seem to get out of the hole he’s dug himself since trading in his lofty theater aspirations for a career in Hollywood. A certified fuck up, and he’s not even thirty yet. In this town, it’s hardly an uncommon tale.

He’d started at NYU at the age of seventeen. When he finally turned eighteen that March, he’d been introduced to Alexander Pierce, an attractive 40-something who had a Robert-Redford sort of look to him, in a dive bar in Brooklyn. Bucky had met the man who nearly ruined him simply because a bar in one of the boroughs didn’t card.

Pierce had come to see a production of _Rosencrantz and Guildenstern Are Dead_ in which Bucky had been cast as Rosencrantz. He had praised Bucky’s skills, but told him that maybe he wasn’t quite ready for Broadway yet.

“Hollywood,” Pierce had said. “That’s where you need to go. With those cheekbones and those eyes, they won’t be able to resist you. And you’re good kid. You’ll only get better, and once you’re a big movie star, you’ll be able to get a role in any stage production you want.”

Bucky had been young and impressionable at the time, and Pierce. Well, he’d seemed to know what he was talking about. He’d appeared genuinely invested in Bucky’s success, so Bucky’d dropped out of the theater program and followed Pierce to Los Angeles. And when Bucky scored a supporting role in what would become one of the biggest action franchises of the decade, Pierce had taken him back to his place and showed him just how much he appreciated Bucky’s skills.

It makes Bucky’s stomach turn now to think about it. The wound still stings because foolish Bucky had fancied himself in love with the older man. Hell, maybe he was. But the only thing Alexander Pierce loved was the paycheck he got whenever his show pony pranced around on set.

And when Bucky had developed an addiction to cocaine because he needed to be awake enough to handle the multitude of projects Pierce had thrown his way and spiraled out of control five years into his stint as a movie star, his haggard face splashed across the tabloids when he’d been arrested for possession? Well, Pierce had just up and vanished.

 

* * *

 

Bucky had met Natasha Romanov on a handful of occasions out and about in Los Angeles over the years. Premieres, club openings, garden parties, that sort of thing. The redhead had shown up at the rehab facility about two hours after Bucky had checked himself in to make sure he was all right. The day Bucky checked out of rehab, Natasha had been the one waiting to drive him home.

He’d asked if she would consider taking on a position as his new agent. She’d agreed without hesitation even though his career was already nose-diving at the tender age of twenty-three. But Nat had fought for him, helped him stay clean, found him a great role in a big-budget science fiction franchise, as well as a number of under-the-radar prestige roles which had helped him build credibility as more than the good looking kid in an action franchise.

So, the fact that he’s letting her down now, making her job harder than it needs to be? He really, _really_ doesn’t like the way that feels.

She wants him to hire a publicist? Fine. Bucky hasn’t had anything stronger than aspirin or alcohol in years, and he still manages to fuck up semi-regularly. He wants to blame Pierce, but at this point, Bucky knows it’s on him. No matter how badly Pierce hurt him, it’s Bucky’s responsibility to reassemble his broken pieces.

Maybe this guy Nat has in mind is the push Bucky needs to really and truly get his fucking act together.

 

* * *

 

Steve Rogers sits in a chair across from Natasha Romanov, one of the better agents in Hollywood, Steve thinks. Not only does she get her clients hired, she also treats them with kindness and respect. A rare breed in this town.

They’ve known each other for going on five years now; they run in the same circles. Steve and Nat have discussed James Barnes a handful of times in the past two or three years. Steve knows he’s more than just a client for Nat; James is her friend, and she’s worried about his well-being as well as his career.

Steve leans back, crossing his legs and checks his watch. The guy’s a few minutes late, but that’s actors, he’s found. He does have clients, though. Paying clients who expect him to be available at a moment’s notice, so he hopes James shows up soon.

When the brunet bursts through the door five minutes later, Steve’s a little taken aback. Sure he’s seen photos of the guy, seen him charm interviewers on red carpets while watching the coverage for awards shows. Still, it comes as a shock how handsome this man is, even with deep shadows under his bloodshot eyes.

“I’m so, so sorry,” the young man gasps, wide gray eyes pleading with his agent. “I wasn’t really feeling well enough to drive, so I had to wait for a car, and then traffic. Hell, you know what traffic’s like in this damn city.”

“Buck, relax,” Natasha sighs. “You weren’t that late, and I’m not really going to chew you out in front of Steve. This is Steve Rogers, by the way, publicist extraordinaire."

Bucky’s eyes widen as Steve stands to his full height, lingering on Steve’s broad shoulders, and Steve needs to remind himself several times that he is a professional and god damn it, he’s going to act like one. Even if this gorgeous man is _definitely_ checking him out.

“Pleasure to meet you, James,” Steve extends his hand, trying to ignore how good Bucky’s hand feels in his. “I hope it’s not too presumptuous to say that I look forward to working with you.”

The brunet laughs, and is it Steve or does he look reluctant to pull his hand away? “If Nat says I’m hiring you, I’m hiring you. God knows I need all the help I can get. Although, if I were you, I don’t think I’d be looking forward to working with me.”

“James,” Steve smiles. “Your situation isn’t a dire one, though it might seem like to you. A lot of celebrities have done a hell of a lot worse and still gone on to have productive careers. A few little tweaks here and there, and you’re a comeback, kid. And everybody loves a good comeback story.”

“You can, uh,” Bucky stutters a little, and Steve reminds himself that the man is tired and hungover. _That’s_ why he’s stammering. He’s not having trouble speaking because of Steve for Christ’s sake. “You can call me Bucky. Not many people in real life call me James.”

“Bucky?” Steve asks, and James - _Bucky_ \- grins.

“Short for Buchanan. Middle name,” Bucky explains. “I only ever get James when I’m being interviewed or when I’m in trouble.”

Bucky’s smirking as he throws a sidelong glance at Natasha, who simply rolls her eyes. Steve tries _very_ hard not to think about how sexy that expression looks on the brunet’s face.

“We’ll have the paperwork drawn up and sent to your office tomorrow morning,” Natasha’s tone is clipped, but her eyes are smiling. “Glad I finally have someone to help me rein this idiot in.”

“Excuse me,” Bucky pouts. “This idiot routinely gets you ten percent of some really nice paychecks.”

“Yeah, well, this idiot might get fewer paychecks if he keeps making out with married men,” Natasha snaps, and Bucky’s shoulders slump.

“Look, I know I fucked up,” Bucky sighs. “I was drunk, and he was just comin’ on so strong -”

“First piece of advice,” Steve cuts in. “If anybody asks you about it, don’t blame him. It was an error in judgment. Got it?”

“Got it,” Bucky nods, a solemn expression on his handsome face.

“Second,” Steve continues. “Do not say a word about it until his team responds to questions. He’s the one who’s married. The ball’s in his court. Besides, they’re not the best photos. They decide to deny it was him, and we can say you hooked up with one of his doubles or something. It’s not like it’s a secret you prefer men, is it?”

“Nah,” Bucky says. “I came out before it was even remotely a good idea to do so.”

“Yeah, well, that makes two of us,” Steve chuckles, and the look of genuine surprise on Bucky’s face has Steve biting the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing. “Lost a lot of insecure male clients once they found out I was bisexual.”

“Huh,” Bucky’s head is tilted, and he’s studying Steve, an inscrutable look on his handsome face. “Interesting. Guess it’s less of a hindrance now?”

“Bucky, I got Tony Stark back in the public’s good graces after that drug-fueled nosedive he took three years ago,” Steve smiles, and loves the way the brunet grins back at him. “Nobody gives a shit who I fuck anymore.”

Bucky’s eyes darken a little at that, and Steve thinks that maybe - _just maybe_ \- Bucky might care who Steve fucks.

 _This might be more difficult than I thought_ , Steve muses as he shakes hands with his new client and Bucky's agent before departing.

 

* * *

 

“Don’t you dare even _think_ about it,” Natasha’s tone is solemn as her eyes meet Bucky’s.

“Think about what?” Bucky asks, playing dumb because _of_ _course_ he’s going to think about it. How could he not when Steve is practically physical perfection?

“Barnes, I swear to god,” Natasha massages her temples as she leans back against her desk. “Steve Rogers is one of the best publicists in this godforsaken town. You want your career back on track? Don’t fuck him.”

“Nat,” Bucky grins. “Can you please give me some credit? I’m not a complete idiot.”

“Debatable,” Natasha’s smile is wry, but it’s still a smile. “Come on. We oughta grab something to eat and then I’ll get you home.”

“Nat,” Bucky grabs her arm as they’re walking to her car. “Thank you. Really, you’ve always gone above and beyond. I promise, we’re gonna turn things around, all right?”

“If I didn’t think you couldn’t turn it around, Buck, I would’ve quit years ago,” Natasha grins. “Now get in the damn car. I’m starving.”


	2. I've Heard Worse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “So, tell me about how we’re going to turn my image around,” Bucky grins.
> 
> “Well, for starters,” Steve begins once he’s swallowed down more of Bucky’s cooking, and his mind is playing tricks on him because it sort of seems like Bucky’s eyes were following the motion of his Adam’s apple. “I need you to tell me all about yourself. As your publicist, it’s my job to know the good, the bad and the ugly so that I can protect you and your reputation.”
> 
> “Everything?” Bucky seems to have shrunk into himself a bit, and Steve’s heart aches for him.
> 
> “‘Fraid so, pal,” Steve smiles sadly. “Don’t worry, I’ll bet you anything I’ve heard worse.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay, it's been a busy holiday weekend for me. It would have been wrong not to update something on this, the day of Steve Rogers's birth, though. I'm working on Cool Beans, I swear, but I'm the teeniest bit stuck, and this story spoke to me today so I hope you don't mind. Hope you enjoy!

Bucky is blessedly free on Monday since none of the scenes they’re filming require his presence. It’s great news, since he’s not really sure he wants to face Brock Rumlow at this point, given the fact that he’d had the man’s tongue down his throat on Saturday. He’d texted him last night to see how he was doing, but he’d gotten nothing but radio silence.

Thank god they’re nearly finished this installment of _Defiant,_ a gritty film series set in a technologically advanced future dystopia. There are even rumors that one of the more important secondary characters might bite the dust, since the studio is forcing a rewrite of the ending, and Bucky almost hopes it’s his rebel hacker Cyrus Whitley if that’s the case. He loves the smartass, crazy intelligent character, he really does, but it’d actually be kind of a relief to be done with this franchise he’s spent the better part of five years working on. The last time he’d felt a burnout coming on it had ended in heartbreak and a stint in rehab.

Of course, he hasn’t told anyone he’s feeling overworked. No, when you’re a guy like Bucky, you jump at every opportunity because you never know who’s going to be comfortable enough to hire a recovering addict. Add in the fact that he’s gay, and you’ve got yourself a controversy-magnet.

Natasha’s call comes in around eleven, and he’s glad he’s in better shape to answer this one.

“Good morning, most talented agent of them all,” Bucky sing songs into the phone. “How are you this fine morning?”

“Flattery will get you nowhere, you weirdo,” Natasha chuckles. “Just calling to let you know Steve signed the contract. He’ll probably be calling you shortly; wants to set up a meeting with you to discuss your strategy from here on out.”

“You’re coming, right?” Bucky asks, running a hand through his dark hair.

“What, you worried you can’t handle yourself, Barnes?” He can _hear_ Natasha’s smirk over the line.

“No, I just,” Bucky pauses for a moment, thinking. “I just assumed you’d want to be included is all.”

“Steve’s the expert on this stuff,” Nat replies. “I trust him. I’m going to try to trust you not to do or say anything stupid.”

“Nat, come on,” Bucky whines. “I’ll behave, I promise. I’ve decided to take a sabbatical from alcohol given my lapse in judgment, so my head will be on straight. Well, not _straight_ , but-”

Bucky smiles as Natasha’s throaty laughs floats into his ear. “You’re ridiculous, Buck. It’s fine. I trust you. Besides, I hardly think Steve would be opposed if it weren’t for the fact that you’re his employer now. Just try to keep it professional.”

“Wait, what?” Bucky’s reeling for a moment, trying to figure out his friend’s words. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You really are an idiot, Barnes,” Nat chuckles. “Call me later and let me know how the meeting goes.”

 

* * *

 

Steve dials Bucky’s number, reminding himself that this is _no big deal_ because the guy’s a client. He’s scheduling a meeting for fuck’s sake, not setting up a date. Still, he can’t help the smile that spreads across his face when the brunet’s deep voice reaches his ear.

“Just got off the phone with Nat!” Bucky exclaims. “Welcome to the team, man. I hope you know what you’re getting yourself into.”

 _Not really, no,_ Steve thinks as he takes a seat at his kitchen table, wrapping a hand around a warm mug of coffee. What he says is, “I think I can handle you, Barnes.”

“Oh, really?” There’s a teasing note that sounds a lot like flirting in Bucky’s tone, and Steve’s heart rate just about doubles. “We’ll see about that, Rogers. I hear you wanna schedule a meeting?”

“Yeah, I figure we might as well hit the ground running,” Steve replies, thrilled that his voice is even and casual. “I was thinking it might be good to meet up at one of our places and just order takeout. More privacy, fewer paps. I mean, we can do my office, but I figure this way would be more comfortable.”

“Tonight work for you?” Bucky sounds… eager maybe? Steve tries to push that thought aside.

“Yeah,” Steve answers. “Yeah, I’m free tonight.”

“Good,” Steve can hear the other man’s smile, and his stomach is suddenly full of butterflies. He feels like a preteen girl nursing her first real crush, and _Jesus_ , he only met this man yesterday. _And he’s a client_. “I’ll text you my address in a bit. You like Chinese food?”

“I do,” Steve’s afraid to say more, afraid his voice will betray him.

“Perfect, I’ll see you around 6,” Bucky says. “Later, Rogers.”

“Bye, Buck,” Steve replies, then hangs up.

“Shit,” he whispers to himself as he drops his head into his hands and takes a deep breath. “Oh, shit.”

 

* * *

 

Bucky heads out that afternoon to the grocery store, and he’s _definitely_ not still thinking about the off-handed way Steve referred to him as Buck over the phone.

He tells himself that he’s not buying up ingredients for stir fry and cooking to show off for Steve; it’s just been a while since he’s made his own food and he’s got the urge.

He tells himself that he’s just looking forward to getting their strategy down as he chops up vegetables. That he’s not eager to see Steve’s handsome face again, that he’s not hoping to make the other man smile and laugh. That he doesn’t ache to get to know the blond.

He tells himself all of these things as he buzzes Steve into the building and then goes to answer the door when Steve knocks.

But Bucky’s only a good liar when he’s on set and the cameras are rolling.

 

* * *

 

Steve’s mouth starts to water as soon as Bucky opens the door, his t-shirt marked up with stains. Of course, his mouth’s only watering because of the delicious scent permeating the air. There is _no other reason,_ he tells himself as he tries to ignore the way Bucky’s shirt stretches taut across his broad shoulders.

“What on earth have you been up to?” Steve grins, and he has to choke down a chuckle as Bucky drops his gaze, blushing.

“Just felt like cooking, that’s all,” Bucky’s smile is shy as he glances up at Steve from under too-long lashes, and Steve can’t help wondering what it’d be like if he took Bucky out because if the brunet looked up at him that way after a date, Steve would be morally obliged to kiss the breath out of him.

 _Focus up, Rogers,_  Steve scolds himself. _You’re here to work._

“Well, it smells incredible,” Steve replies. “I can’t wait to try it. I had no idea you cooked.”

“That’s the funny thing about celebrity,” Bucky chuckles. “People see so much of you, they think they know you. We’re all full of surprises. Come on in. We’ll get some plates together and then we can start going over your master plan. I hope you don’t mind iced tea with dinner; I’ve decided to take a bit of a break from drinking in light of recent events.”

“I think that’s very wise,” Steve grins.

“Figured you would,” Bucky smirks and Steve feels a little light-headed for a moment. It must be because he’s hungry, he reasons.

Steve follows Bucky into the kitchen and lets the other man pile rice, chicken and vegetables onto his plate. They settle in at the kitchen table, and Steve can’t help the appreciative groan as he takes his first bite. He thinks for a moment that Bucky’s gaze flicks down to his lips, but that’s almost certainly just his imagination.

“So, tell me about how we’re going to turn my image around,” Bucky grins.

“Well, for starters,” Steve begins once he’s swallowed down more of Bucky’s cooking, and his mind is playing tricks on him because it sort of seems like Bucky’s eyes were following the motion of his Adam’s apple. “I need you to tell me all about yourself. As your publicist, it’s my job to know the good, the bad and the ugly so that I can protect you and your reputation.”

“Everything?” Bucky seems to have shrunk into himself a bit, and Steve’s heart aches for him.

“‘Fraid so, pal,” Steve smiles sadly. “Don’t worry, I’ll bet you anything I’ve heard worse.”

 

* * *

 

Bucky’d rather not get into his life’s sordid details, but he takes a deep breath and sets down his fork. Then, he’s spilling his tale. His early life is easy enough. Kid from Brooklyn who got into community theater early in life despite that fact that his father wanted him playing Little League, not traipsing about on stage. His mother’s high hopes and his father’s eventual support and full encouragement. A high school for the arts and his acceptance into the theater program at NYU a year earlier than expected.

Then comes the hard part. Meeting Pierce. Dropping out of NYU and moving to Los Angeles. The whirlwind of being cast in _Sudden Justice,_ which would turn out to be the biggest blockbuster Ascendant Pictures had seen in decades and spawned two sequels, both of which Bucky had been a part.

He tells Steve about his relationship with Pierce. About coming out - his family had been concerned but supportive, but the media had been nearly unbearable. About the fact that Pierce had wanted Bucky to keep their relationship quiet since it was hardly what most people would call appropriate. About how that should have been a red flag, but he’d been too blind to see that Pierce didn’t really love him.

Then he explains the burnout and subsequent addiction. His tailspin and Pierce’s disappearing act. He can’t look at Steve as he tells him these things, can’t bear to see the judgment and disgust in the other man’s eyes. Or worse yet, pity. He can hear the detached, robotic quality of his voice, and it frightens him a little. It must frighten Steve too because all of a sudden, the other man’s large hand is over Bucky’s, wrapping around it protectively, squeezing just a bit.

Bucky’s eyes snap to Steve’s and he sees nothing but compassion there. His heart nearly stops because Steve is looking at him as though Bucky is something worth saving. Worth protecting. Worth fighting for.

“Thank you for telling me,” Steve’s voice is gentle as he lets go of Bucky’s hand, and Bucky misses the warmth immediately. “I’m sorry you had to go through that alone.”

“Thanks,” Bucky tries a smile, and it must be fairly convincing, since Steve is grinning in return. “So, what about you?”

“What about me?” Steve’s brow furrows a little, and Bucky has to admit that it’s kind of adorable. He wonders if there is anything about this man that he’ll find unattractive. He kind of doubts it.

“Don’t take this the wrong way,” Bucky grins. “Because you’re clearly very good at your job. But you don’t really look or seem the type to go into publicity.”

“Well, it may shock you to learn that I came to Hollywood with my girlfriend to be an actor,” Steve replies, and Bucky feels his stomach drop because _of course_ this gorgeous man is unavailable.

“Girlfriend, huh?” Bucky keeps the smile plastered to his face even if he does feel disappointment pierce his heart like the sharp blade of a dagger.

“Well, ex now,” Steve says, and Bucky should not be feeling like leaping for joy, but feelings can’t be helped, can they? “She’s a screenwriter, and fairly successful too. Peggy Carter.”

“You dated Peggy Carter?” Bucky must sound incredulous because Steve’s laughing at him openly. He can’t bring himself to care. “Are you fucking serious?”

“Very,” Steve grins. “We met in college and we moved out here after graduating. I did some commercials, a few TV pilots. She started sending scripts out to the studios. We were broke, but we were happy enough. After a couple of years, I decided to call acting quits. I minored in public relations in college and started handling press for a couple of up-and-comers, and I liked it. Then Peg got her big break with _The Green Jumper._ ”

“Oh, I’m aware,” Bucky can hardly believe this. “It’s one of my favorite films.”

“She’ll be happy to hear that,” Steve chuckles. “She loves you, you know. Anyway, that’s where she met Angie Martinelli and the two of them fell in love.”

“Christ,” Bucky breathes. “That must have been awful for you.”

“Well, it wasn’t fun at the time,” Steve sounds a little wistful, and Bucky can hardly blame him. “But we had started growing apart. I don’t think either of us realized we’d fallen out of love until Peggy met Angie. Of course, it took some time to get back on really good terms, but I only ever wanted Peg to be happy. Besides, Angie’s great. You can meet them sometime, if you want.”

“I definitely want,” Bucky grins. “Don’t tell Peggy this because I want it to happen based on my skills and not your suggestion, but one of my biggest professional goals is to get a role in a film she’s written. Honestly, the way she turns everyday situations into these really rich fictional worlds is just incredible.”

“Well, I’ll let you drop a few well-placed hints on your own, then,” Steve smirks. “You may not have the greatest reputation in the press, but Peg loves your independent film work and you’re quite the charmer.”

“Do you think so?” Bucky practically purrs, and he’s gratified when Steve’s eyes darken a little at that. “And what led you to this opinion?”

“Well, I have to get to know my client’s style, don’t I?” Steve quips and Bucky laughs. “So, I watched a couple of interviews you’d done on your last press junket. Incredible, really, that they pay Brock more than you when you carry the films _and_ the joint interviews.”

“Now, there’s no way you’ve watched all three _Defiant_ films in one afternoon,” Bucky teases and delights in the way the other man’s cheeks flush the most enticing shade of pink.

“Nothing wrong with being a fan before being an employee is there?” Steve grumbles, a small smile playing at his lips.

“Nothing at all,” Bucky grins. “It’d be a hell of a downer to have hired someone who thinks I’m a no-talent hack.”

“Speaking of hiring me,” Steve says. “We’ve talked more than enough about me. We ought to get down to business.”

“To defeat the huns,” Bucky sings softly, and can’t help chuckling at Steve’s full-on belly laugh. Bucky learns that the Adonis sitting beside him is the biggest Disney nerd around, but that they really, _really_ need to discuss Bucky’s social media strategy.

Of course, Bucky makes Disney jokes throughout the evening, and Steve laughs even as he’s scolding Bucky for getting them off track.

 

* * *

 

“Thank you for dinner,” Steve smiles as Bucky walks him to the door a little after eleven. “It was delicious. And we actually got quite a lot accomplished, don’t you think?”

“I do,” Bucky grins, and Steve’s heart twists just a little at the look on the other man’s face. It’s the first time he’s seen Bucky hopeful, and it gladdens him. “Thank you for coming over. It was a good meeting, and it’s great getting to know you. I get why Nat didn’t even suggest anyone else. I think we make a good team.”

“I’m glad,” Steve replies, grasping Bucky’s arm without thinking about it. He pulls back quickly, but makes sure his movements aren’t jerky. The last thing he needs is to make a client uncomfortable. “Give me a call if you need anything. Otherwise, I’ll be in touch soon.”

“Good night, Steve,” Bucky extends his hand, and Steve tells himself that the other man does not look sad to see him go. That the longing in Bucky’s gaze is simply wishful thinking on his part.

“Night, Buck,” Steve grasps the brunet’s hand, shakes it firmly and then heads toward the elevator at the end of the hall.

Steve wonders as he rides down and walks to his car if he and Bucky wouldn’t make a good team in other ways.

 _Don’t start with what ifs,_ Steve tells himself. _In the end, you’ll only hurt yourself._

Still, Steve falls asleep thinking of the spicy tang of Bucky’s stir-fry and the most beautiful eyes he’s ever seen shining with hope.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!


	3. Keep Your Fucking Mouth Shut

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve’s a little surprised to see Bucky’s name flash across his screen around 8 p.m. He’s curled up on his couch in a t-shirt and sweats, re-watching _Sudden Justice: Soldier of Honor_ for the hundredth time. It’s sort of hard to convince himself that he’s watching this movie for anything other than the breath of fresh air Bucky’s performance lends the film. And also for those killer cheekbones.
> 
> “Hey,” Steve answers the phone, fumbling as he tries to mute his television. It takes him a minute but he manages it. “What’s up? Everything all right?”
> 
> “Are you watching one of the _Sudden Justice_ movies?” Bucky’s tone is simultaneously incredulous and amused, and it takes every fiber of Steve’s restraint not to groan out loud.
> 
> “What would make you think that?” Steve asks, doing his best to seem as nonchalant as possible.
> 
> “Dude,” Bucky chuckles. “I was part of that fucking series for five years. I still hear that music in my sleep some nights.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oops, my hand slipped :) Hope you guys enjoy!

Bucky doesn’t see Brock until Wednesday morning. They’re shooting a couple of scenes together, and while everything’s fine when the cameras are rolling, the tension emanating from Bucky’s co-star in between takes is palpable. Bucky doesn’t push. He knows Brock’s type - tough guys with repressed feelings who can get aggressive when people find out they’re not as straight as they seemed.

Brock barely looks at him between takes, but when he does, his gaze is dark. It gives Bucky goosebumps and not in the good way.

Bucky’s not really sure why the hell he’d let Brock manhandle him on Saturday anyway. Sure, he’s good looking, but a sloppy makeout session behind the bar isn’t worth the ruin of a decent working relationship.

When they’re finished for the day, Bucky heads back to his trailer, unaware that he’s being followed. So it comes as a surprise when a strong hand grips his shoulder and whirls him around.

“You say a fuckin’ word about what happened,” Brock snarls, and Bucky cringes back, surprised at the anger in the other man’s eyes. “And your career will be over, do you understand me?”

“I wasn’t gonna say anything,” Bucky reassures him, pushing against Brock’s chest until the other man backs up a few steps. “Believe me, Rumlow, you’re not worth fucking up my career again.”

Brock scowls at him, and Bucky sees the other man’s fists tighten at his sides. Bucky knows Brock is itching to take a swing at him, to reaffirm his warped sense of masculinity, but there are people milling around and it wouldn’t do for rumors of a fight between the two of them to get out right after the picture debacle.

“My publicist actually had a solid idea,” Bucky tries to calm Brock down, speaking in a low, soothing tone. “You don’t wanna get outed? No skin off my back, pal. Just have your people say it must have been one of your doubles or something. I don’t give a shit if you deny it was you.”

“My people are working on a statement,” Brock’s still frowning, but some of the violence has left his rugged features. “Just keep your fucking mouth shut.”

“I’d be happy to,” Bucky pulls open the door of his trailer. He turns back to Brock with a smirk on his face once he’s inside.

“And kindly refrain from ever trying to stick your tongue in it again, thanks,” Bucky quips, slamming the door in Brock’s irate face.

There’s no way his character is surviving this installment, Bucky thinks with a chuckle, as he prepares to clean up and head home. Brock will make sure of it.

He finds he has run out of fucks to give.

 

* * *

 

Steve’s a little surprised to see Bucky’s name flash across his screen around 8 p.m. He’s curled up on his couch in a t-shirt and sweats, re-watching _Sudden Justice: Soldier of Honor_ for the hundredth time. It’s sort of hard to convince himself that he’s watching this movie for anything other than the breath of fresh air Bucky’s performance lends the film. And also for those killer cheekbones.

“Hey,” Steve answers the phone, fumbling as he tries to mute his television. It takes him a minute but he manages it. “What’s up? Everything all right?”

“Are you watching one of the _Sudden Justice_ movies?” Bucky’s tone is simultaneously incredulous and amused, and it takes every fiber of Steve’s restraint not to groan out loud.

“What would make you think that?” Steve asks, doing his best to seem as nonchalant as possible.

“Dude,” Bucky chuckles. “I was part of that fucking series for five years. I still hear that music in my sleep some nights.”

“I’m just familiarizing myself with your work,” Steve protests.

“Didn’t realize that was part of the job,” Bucky teases. “Anyway, wanted to give you a heads up about something. Brock maybe sort of threatened me a little bit today.”

“Fuck’s sake,” Steve groans, running a hand through his light hair. “Come over and tell me about it. I’ll text you the address.”

“See you in twenty,” Bucky replies. “Oh, and Steve?”

“Yeah?”

“I don’t think this is the first time you’ve watched _Sudden Justice_ ,” Steve can hear the smirk in Bucky’s voice, and it’s infuriating and sexy all at once. “And I’m glad you’re a fan.”

“Just get your ass over here so we can sort out what to do about Rumlow, jerk,” Steve laughs, smiling as he ends the call and then sends Bucky his address.

 

* * *

 

Steve lives in a fairly small house in West Hollywood, but it’s cute. It suits Steve, Bucky thinks as he walks up the front steps and rings the doorbell.

He’s surprised when Steve answers in what Bucky guess amount to pajamas for the blond, but he can hardly complain with the way Steve’s t-shirt stretches so tightly across his massive chest. Steve’s sweatpants hang low on his hips, and god, what Bucky wouldn’t give to know how Steve looks out of them.

“Hey, Buck,” Bucky’s gaze darts up to see Steve’s blue eyes sparkling with amusement, a knowing smile on his face. “Come on in.”

Bucky follows Steve through the entryway into the open concept dining and living area. A dark-skinned man is sitting at the dining table, tapping out something on his laptop, and he looks up when Steve clears his throat.

“Oh, shit,” the man says. “Sorry, I can leave.”

“No, Sam, I just wanted to introduce my newest client,” Steve smiles, patting Bucky on the shoulder. “This is James Barnes. Bucky to his friends. Bucky this is my roommate Sam. He’s a director.”

“Nice to meet you, James,” Sam stands and extends his hand. Bucky grips it, shaking it firmly and smiling.

“You can call me Bucky,” he tells Sam. “Not many people call me James. And it’s a pleasure to meet you as well.”

“You here for a meeting?” Sam asks. “Because, really, I can make myself scarce. I know how you famous people are about your privacy.”

Bucky can’t help the laugh that bubbles up from his chest. “Nah, man, you seem pretty occupied there. Besides, I’m sure you’re used to keeping some secrets if you’re in the industry.”

“Oh, yeah,” Sam smirks. “I gotta tell you, though, I’ve never seen this one so excited about landing a client.”

Steve chuckles nervously and attempts to herd Bucky further into the living room, but the blond’s reaction has him curious. “Oh, really?”

“Well, I guess it’s not every day you end up doing publicity for the guy who-” Sam stops as Steve begins making a slashing motion across his throat.

“Who,” Sam hesitates, and Bucky can practically see the gears turning in the man’s head. “Well, a guy who’s such a, uh, a talent.”

“Right,” Bucky’s eyes shift back and forth between the two friends. “Well, we won’t keep you, Sam. Steve and I need to have a quick chat.”

“You want something to drink?” Steve asks, looking immensely relieved, and _shit_ , Bucky would love to know what Sam was _really_ about to say before Steve had silenced him.

“Water’d be great, actually,” Bucky grins. “Thanks.”

Steve strides out of the room. Sam glances at the kitchen door, then turns to Bucky.

“I, uh,” Sam stammers. “I should help him.”

“Uh huh,” Bucky smirks. “I’m sure your 6’2” roommate needs help bringing me a glass of water.”

Sam blinks at Bucky, lips parted slightly, before turning and darting into the kitchen.

Bucky had really thought Brock threatening him would be the weirdest thing that happened to him today, but clearly he’d been incorrect.

 

* * *

 

“What the fuck was that?” Steve hisses as he grabs a glass from a cabinet, turning on the faucet and filling a glass for Bucky.

“I’m sorry,” Sam whispers. “Shit, I’ve never met anyone legitimately famous. Not at his level, and it was just word vomit. Fuck.”

“Yeah, well, maybe go finish whatever you’re working on in your room, yeah?” Steve scowls. “The last thing I need is a client finding out that he’s the reason I realized I was bi.”

“I don’t know,man,” Sam grins. “Do you see the way that man looks at you? It’s like you’re a big, beautiful piece of cake and he wants to dig right in.”

“Sam,” Steve sighs. “Please. This is a really good opportunity for me, and I don’t want him to freak out and bail. I need to be a professional about this.”

“Yeah, good luck with that,” Sam chuckles as he head back toward the dining room to collect his things. “That should be real easy for you.”

Steve glares at his friend’s retreating form. Then, he takes a deep breathe and heads out of the kitchen, Bucky’s glass of water in hand.

 

* * *

 

Steve looks sort of horrified as Bucky relates the confrontation between himself and Brock, and it’s probably one of the most endearing things he’s ever seen.

“Do you know his publicist’s name?” Steve asks. “I’ll get in touch with them tomorrow. Of course, we’re willing to cooperate to minimize any damage, but he can’t just threaten you like that. I won’t have it.”

“Thanks, Steve,” Bucky grins. “I promise, I can take care of myself on set, but it’d be nice to get through this film without a black eye. Anyway, they’ve been talking about a pretty big character death in this movie - you know motivation for our fearless hero and all that - and I think I pretty much just guaranteed it’ll be me.”

“Shit, Buck,” Steve sighs. “I don’t know how much I can do about that. Maybe talk to Nat about it?”

“Nah,” Bucky grins. “We’d have had to renegotiate my contract at the end of this film anyway, and I’m kind of over _Defiant_. I’m kind of looking forward to putting the franchise behind me, fun as it’s been.”

“You sure?” Steve asks, leaning forward and placing a hand on Bucky’s knee and Bucky’s sort of surprised there aren’t literal sparks erupting between them considering the jolt that goes through him at Steve’s touch.. “Because Nat and I will fight for you if you wanna continue with it.”

“I know you would,” Bucky smiles, placing a hand on top of Steve’s without really thinking about what he’s doing. “And I appreciate that, but really, if they think it’s time for Cyrus to bite the dust, I’m not going to fight it. But thank you.”

“Of course,” Steve breathes, and Bucky’s suddenly very aware of how close the two of them are. Bucky’s knee brushes Steve’s as he shifts slightly, and their faces are only a few inches apart. It would be so easy for Bucky to lean forward and capture those plump lips with his own…

And then Sam’s voice is floating down the hall, asking Steve and Bucky if they want to order a pizza, and Bucky scoots back quickly, that same soft smile on his face, and Steve looks completely dazed and maybe even a little disappointed.

“I should go,” Bucky says. “Wouldn’t want to interrupt pizza time for you and your roomie.”

“Stay,” Steve says, and Bucky feels his heart swell at the smile on the blond’s face. “We’d love to have you.”

“Well, then,” Bucky grins. “The pizza will be my treat for your availability on such short notice.”

 

* * *

 

The three of them have a grand old time once the pizza arrives, and Steve’s glad to see his sometimes surly roommate making a real effort to be polite and friendly toward Bucky. Granted, it’s hard not to like the brunet once you get to know him. Bucky’s got a way about him that makes people feel like they’re the only person in the room that matters, and Sam rarely gets an interested audience when he talks about his projects.

Steve sighs after he’s shown Bucky out and shut the door, leaning back against the frame and trying to ignore the butterflies in his stomach.

“You got it so bad, Rogers,” Sam chuckles as he walks down the hall. “But then, I think he might too.”

“Oh, shut up, Wilson,” Steve grumbles, but he can’t keep a hopeful smile from his face even if he _is_ truly and completely fucked where James Buchanan Barnes is concerned.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!


	4. Sometimes You Get Lucky

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky’s heading toward his trailer on Saturday afternoon for his lunch break when he hears his agent’s voice raised in anger. There’s no mistaking Natasha’s small frame, her flaming hair bouncing as she shakes her head, arms waving as she shouts at one of the writers who is accompanied by Brock and his agent. 
> 
> “Fuck me,” Bucky sighs, but forces himself to move forward. He might as well get this over with as quickly and as painlessly as possible.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still roadblocked on Cool Beans, but hey, this is something right? Don't hate me too much, I promise I am trying to bust through that writer's block, and I'll be damned if I don't update it soon, but I also don't want it to be complete garbage, you know? In the meantime, I hope you enjoy this.

Steve settles into his desk at the office the following morning, punching in the number of Brock Rumlow’s publicist and waiting patiently as the phone rings. He’s resolving to leave a message when a cool, clipped voice sounds over the line.

“Jasper Sitwell,” the man’s inflection has a sharp edge to it. Standard LA publicist behavior when faced with an unfamiliar number, Steve thinks, reminding himself to be extra polite. The last thing he needs is to alienate the one man who might cooperate in this situation.

“Mr. Sitwell,” Steve breezes. “This is Steve Rogers, James Barnes’s publicist. How are you this morning?”

“Well, honestly, I’ve been better, Mr. Rogers,” Sitwell sighs. “Trying to resolve this mess our clients have gotten themselves into is proving exhausting. Of course, I’ve spoken to the press several times now and denied it’s my client as he’s requested, but these tabloid types are relentless. And as you may know, Mr. Rumlow isn’t always the most pleasant man.”

“Call me Steve,” the blond keeps his voice light and cheerful. “And that’s actually what I wanted to talk to you about. You see, Mr. Rumlow was a bit antagonistic to my client yesterday. I understand that it’s a difficult and awkward situation, but we’re prepared to work with you to minimize the damage as long as Mr. Rumlow leaves James be.”

“I’ll talk to him,” Jasper sounds miserable, and Steve can’t blame him. He’s met Brock Rumlow a few times over the past couple of years, and can’t imagine having to deal with that 24/7. “In the meantime, would you be interested in discussing the situation and perhaps helping me craft a statement so that this mess can be put to bed?”

“Mr. Sitwell, I’d be happy to,” Steve grins, grabbing a pen and paper. “You name the time and the place and I’ll be there.”

“Jasper, please,” the other man finally sounds like maybe he can breathe a little easier now, and gives Steve the name of a small restaurant in the Hills. They agree to meet for lunch at one and sort everything out.

 

* * *

 

By Friday, the tabloids have their story. Brock Rumlow was out with several of his co-stars the evening the pictures were taken, and a couple of his stunt doubles came along, and that’s who appears in the photos with Bucky. Bucky’s camp won’t name the stunt double in question, citing privacy concerns. _“The two men were simply having some fun and blowing off steam,” a source close to Barnes tells this publication. “There is a deep mutual respect between James and Brock, but their interest in one another is nothing more than professional.”_

The press release isn’t the top story anywhere since an A-lister has just announced she’s expecting, and all of the covers feature the glowing blonde with her hands placed to strategically show her tiny bump. Steve’s glad because that means this silly little incident will fade from the public’s mind almost immediately. Nothing distracts the tabloid-reading crowd quite like beautiful people procreating.

He picks up Nat’s call that afternoon with a smile.

“I do good, chief?” Steve asks, back arching like a cat’s as he stretches in his chair.

“You did,” Nat sounds beyond relieved, and he’s happy to have helped. “Thank you. You’re a gem and we’re never letting you go.”

“Just doing my job,” Steve grins. “Think nothing of it.”

 

* * *

 

Bucky’s heart is hammering in his chest as he calls Steve, and it seems to double in speed when the blond answers on the second ring.

“Hey, Buck,” Bucky can hear the smile in Steve’s voice, and he can’t help the grin stretching across his own face. He runs a hand through his dark hair, huffing a breathless laugh.

“You’re a fucking lifesaver, you know that?” Bucky chuckles. “And the timing with that pregnancy announcement. Unbelievable.”

“Sometimes you get lucky,” Steve replies.

“Yeah, well, I’ve never gotten that lucky before,” Bucky teases. “You must be a charm, Rogers. And I think you should let me buy you dinner to say thank you.”

“My salary is enough of a thank you, Bucky,” Steve laughs. “But I appreciate the offer.”

“Really,” Bucky persists. “No’s not an option on this one. I will bring you food if I have to. I know where your office is _and_ where you live.”

“Well, in that case,” Steve quips. “I’ll be at the office for another couple hours and I _have_ been craving a Big Mac and a chocolate shake for the better part of a week.”

“Say no more,” Bucky chuckles. “I’ll see you in a bit.”

Bucky arrives, a paper bag with those glorious golden arches in his hand, and the two of them wolf down the greasy fast food and discuss the possibility of Bucky appearing on a cooking show since it’s one of his favorite hobbies. Steve thinks it’ll make him more relatable and show that he’s rebuilding his life in a positive way. Nothing like this has ever been suggested, and Bucky thinks it’s a great idea.

But then, Bucky’s probably so biased at this point that he’d think anything that comes out of the blond’s mouth is the best idea he’s ever heard.

 

* * *

 

Bucky’s heading toward his trailer on Saturday afternoon for his lunch break when he hears his agent’s voice raised in anger. There’s no mistaking Natasha’s small frame, her flaming hair bouncing as she shakes her head, arms waving as she shouts at one of the writers who is accompanied by Brock and his agent.

“Fuck me,” Bucky sighs, but forces himself to move forward. He might as well get this over with as quickly and as painlessly as possible.

“I hear you, Rich,”  Nat is addressing the writer. “Really, I do. The studio wants more drama, I get it. But I _don’t_ get why you’re letting this asshole bully you into killing off my client’s very popular character.”

“Natasha, it’s just,” Rich begins, voice full of hesitation. Natasha isn’t someone you want angry with you, and Bucky feels sorry for the shy, dark-haired man, so he interrupts him as soon as he reaches the crowd outside his door.

“Lemme guess,” Bucky grins as he approaches them. “I’m the lamb for the slaughter, right?”

“Bucky, this isn’t funny,” Natasha scowls. “We have an option to renegotiate your contract and-”

“Nat, come inside,” Bucky cuts her off. “Rich you come on in too.” He turns to Rumlow and the seedy-looking guy in his employ. “You two are not invited.”

Brock looks as though he wants nothing more than to strangle Bucky, but his agent manages a tight smile as he pulls Brock away.

“Come on,” Bucky’s voice is gentle as he opens his trailer door, motioning for his agent and the screenwriter to head into his trailer for some privacy.

“What the fuck, Bucky?” Natasha asks once they’re all seated, her hand gripping his forearm tightly. “You’re just going to let them write you out? How are you so calm about all of this?”

“Because I don’t want to be a part of this series anymore, Nat,” Bucky replies, smiling over at Rich apologetically. “Don’t get me wrong, Rich, it’s been an incredible opportunity and a hell of a lot of fun. I’m incredibly grateful to have been a part of it. But I need a break.”

“A break?” Natasha questions, her eyes never leaving Bucky’s face.

“I haven’t said anything, but I’m feeling kind of worn out and the last time that happened, well, we know how that turned out,” Bucky sighs. “And, honestly, I don’t want to work with Brock anymore, and he needs movies like this. I don’t.”

Natasha’s pulled her hand away at this point. She leans back slightly and then he small fist is connecting with Bucky’s bicep.

“Hey!” Bucky’s shout is indignant as he rubs the sore spot, glowering at his friend. “The fuck was that?”

“Why the hell didn’t you tell me any of this?” Natasha demands, green eyes flashing with anger and - Bucky would swear it - hurt.

“Nat, I’m not your only client, and I didn’t want to worry you before we knew what the rewritten ending would be,” Bucky demurs. “I’m sorry, I really am. I should have said something sooner.”

“You’re going to be the death of me, Barnes,” Natasha snaps, but Bucky can see the ghost of a smile on her red lips. “Fine. You don’t want me to fight this, I won’t fight it. As of now, you’re taking a vacation, though, and I don’t want to hear an argument. If you’re that close to a burnout, you need one - a _real_ one. We’ll start looking into new projects in a month or two.”

“Nat, I don’t think-” Bucky begins, his mouth snapping closed as Nat glares at him.

“I said,” Natasha replies, voice clipped and tight. “No arguments.”

“Well,” Rich pipes up. “For what it’s worth, I’ll be sorry as hell to see you go. You’re one of the only real actors we have as far as I’m concerned.”

“Rich, it’s been a pleasure,” Bucky stands, shaking the other man’s hand. “I’m sure we haven’t seen the last of each other. Thanks for helping to create such a great character.”

Rich smiles, nods at Natasha as he shakes her hand quickly, then beats it out of Bucky’s trailer.

“You sure you don’t want to fight Rumlow on this?” Natasha asks once the door’s closed, her voice quiet. “It feels a lot like you’re letting him win.”

“Fighting a guy like that isn’t worth it, Nat,” Bucky replies, smiling sadly. “Besides, it’s time for a change. Brock aside, I need to move on from this franchise. It just feels like the right thing to do.”

“As long as you’re sure,” Natasha smiles, standing up and grabbing Bucky’s arm. “C’mon. You need to eat something before you go back to filming and I hear these big action sets always bring in the best food. It’s time I took advantage of it.”

 

* * *

 

Steve waits until around ten to text Bucky, hoping it’s late enough that he’s finished filming for the day. The next two weeks are going to be grueling for the brunet, Nat informed Steve when she’d called to fill him in on what had gone down on set. The studio’s deadline was fast approaching and they still needed to shoot the ending sequence, so Bucky would likely be putting in some crazy hours after a day off tomorrow.

_S: Hey, Nat told me about what happened today? You doing all right?_

Steve doesn’t have to wait long for a reply. Bucky’s name and a message flash across the screen about a minute later.

_B: I’m doing great, actually :)_

Steve smiles as he types out his response, eyes crinkling at the corners as he rereads Bucky’s words, eyes lingering on the smiley face.

_S: Glad to hear it. I talked to Nat, and if you’re still interested in appearing on a cooking show, that’s apparently an appropriate vacation activity. If you’d rather not, we can put it off for a bit._

_B: No, I’m totally in! What are we talking here? Rachael Ray? Martha Stewart? A Good Morning America segment?_

_S: Actually, I was talking with producers for The Barefoot Contessa this afternoon, and they seem very interested in having you on as a guest_.

Steve actually laughs out loud as his phone starts buzzing with a call from Bucky, and is incredibly glad he’d spoken to Nat about this idea before he’d started making inquiries. He hadn’t expected to find out that Ina Garten was Bucky’s culinary idol.

“Are you fucking kidding me?!” Bucky exclaims after Steve greets him, and the blond actually jerks back from his phone, Bucky’s shouting so loud. “Are you telling me that I get to prepare a meal with Ina fucking Garten? For real? In real life?!”

“That’s the plan,” Steve chuckles, standing and pacing the length of his living room. “Nothing’s finalized for sure yet, but it looks good. It would seem Ina’s a fan of your work.”

“I know this probably sounds melodramatic,” Bucky’s voice is bubbling with enthusiasm, and Steve’s heart warms at the sound of it. “But you’re possibly one of the best people I’ve ever met. Holy shit, Steve. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, Buck,” Steve grins. “I’m glad you’re happy about it.”

“Happy about it?” Bucky bursts out. “I’m fucking ecstatic. We’re celebrating tomorrow. Brunch. You, me and Nat. Bring Sam too, actually. I have nothing on my schedule for the next month, and I want to talk to him about his ideas while I have some downtime.”

Steve rejoices internally because he knows Sam will be thrilled, and also because he revels in any excuse to spend time with Bucky. But Sam’s been waiting for his big break, and who knows? Bucky could be the gateway into Hollywood that he’s been searching for.

“You got it, boss,” Steve replies, delighting in the brunet’s happy laugh.

“I’ll text you time and place tomorrow morning,” Bucky says. “And really, Steve. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, Buck,” Steve smiles. “Talk to you tomorrow.”

Steve ends the call, his smile and eyes bright, and barges into Sam’s room to let him know that they’ve got big plans tomorrow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thanks for reading, for leaving kudos, for bookmarking and for commenting. You're all wonderful :)


	5. Aren't You Going To Invite Me In?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There’s a tall, slim figure standing with his back to Bucky once he exits the elevator and steps into his hallway. But back turned or no, Bucky knows this man. His stomach churns, and it’s a struggle to keep the biscuits and gravy he’d had at brunch from making a reappearance. 
> 
> The figure turns, and Bucky feels his entire body tense. The face is still handsome, only slightly more weathered and lined than the last time Bucky’d seen it. The blond hair is still thick and full, and his smile is still a thousand watts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay on updating this one! Shit's gonna be, uh, pretty angsty for a few chapters. The vast majority of it will be in this longer-than-usual update. I apologize in advance, and I hope you don't hate it!

Bucky wakes just as daylight is streaking the sky outside his bedroom windows, flushed and hard. He recalls the vivid dream he’s just awoken from, groaning aloud at the image of Steve on his knees before him, Bucky’s cock sliding slick and wet between Steve’s too-red lips.

Bucky pushes his boxers down, long fingers circling his erection, whining low in his throat as he imagines Steve taking him into that sinful mouth of his, working his cock with lips and tongue. Bucky sticks two fingers into his mouth, coating them with a slick layer of his own saliva. He maneuvers his hips so that he’s able to massage his entrance, hips arching as he imagines that the digits are Steve’s tongue. He slips a finger inside himself, rotating it gently, moaning aloud as he continues to stroke his cock.

A second finger joins the first, and then Bucky’s scissoring himself open, whimpering at the familiar burn accompanied by the image of Steve hovering over him, whispering sweet nothings as he stretches him wide.

Bucky slides in a third finger, fucking himself in earnest, cock throbbing in his hand as he pictures Steve sliding into him. He groans, his voice hoarse with arousal as his hips buck erratically, his thoughts of the blond taking him overwhelming him.

“Steve,” Bucky moans out, breath hitching as his fingers find his prostate. “Oh, _fuck_.”

Bucky’s hips stutter and then he’s coming over his hand, his seed spilling onto his stomach. Bucky wipes his hand across sheets that need to be washed anyway as he lies on his back catching his breath.

“Fuck,” he sighs, chest heaving. “Oh, god, I am so fucked.”

He reflects on how much he _wishes_ that were true as he rolls out of bed and heads for the shower.

 

* * *

 

Steve sits across the table from Bucky at Republique, an upscale French place that Bucky and Nat insisted had the best brunch around, listening as his roommate discusses potential film projects with the brunet. Steve stuffs another piece of the Ricotta Toast into his mouth as he observes the conversation, eyes flickering over to Natasha for a moment. The redhead raises a brow, a silent inquiry as to how his meal is. Steve smiles and nods, unwilling to interrupt Sam and Bucky.

“Really, Sam, I think you’re a natural,” Bucky’s smile is wide and engaging, and Steve can’t help but be a little entranced by the the other man’s beauty. “I know you’ve only directed a couple of shorts and an indie, but you have serious potential. I’d love to explore the option of working together if you’d be interested.”

“Interested?” Sam nearly chokes on his Bloody Mary, his omelette forgotten and growing cold. “Are you kidding? Bucky, that would be incredible. Granted,” Sam trails off, brow furrowed.

“What?” Bucky asks, leaning forward a little, winking when he catches Steve’s eye. Steve is _not_ blushing. He’s just starting to feel the three mimosas he’s had so far. That’s why his face is suddenly so warm.

“Well,” Sam grins. “I mean, it might help if we had a project.”

“Way ahead of you there, pal,” Bucky chuckles. “I’ve done enough independent work now that I know plenty of screenwriters. Of course,” Bucky shoots a smile in Steve’s direction. “There is one writer I’d be particularly interested in working with in the future.”

Steve laughs, setting his glass down. “I’m sure I can introduce you to Peggy soon, Buck, but you _are_ meant to be taking a break now. Masterminding an indie film isn’t exactly what I’d call a vacation.”

“Thank you, Steven,” Natasha sighs, and although she’s clearly exasperated with their client, she’s still smiling. “Take your damn break, and come back to the idea in a month or two. It’ll keep. Besides, we have other matters to discuss this morning, Buck.”

Steve watches as Bucky’s face lights up with a smile, and _Christ_ , this man is absolutely stunning.

“That’s right,” Bucky grins, raising his lemonade in the air, remaining true to his word about avoiding alcohol for the foreseeable future. “To Ina and me.”

The four clink glasses, laughing at Bucky’s enthusiasm.

“I’ll be calling her people to work out the details, scheduling, payment, all that,” Natasha states. “But, Steve, you really have made this all so easy for me, and I’d like to thank you for that.”

“Happy to help,” Steve replies, tipping his glass toward the redhead. “I’m a publicist. Gotta be able to schmooze from time to time, after all.”

 

* * *

 

Sam is heading to a friend’s after brunch and Nat’s got plans, so Bucky offers to drive Steve home. He does his best to will the images of dream Steve from his head, but it’s tough when they’re alone and the blond is sitting right beside him.

“So, I’m glad you’re excited for Ina,” Steve grins, stupidly blue eyes crinkling at the corners, and _fuck_ , he’s so damn sweet Bucky could cry.

“Honestly, everyone I know is going to be so sick of me while this is happening,” Bucky chuckles. “It’s all I’m going to talk about for the next, like, six months at least. People are going to be all upset because Cyrus is no more, and I’m going to be like, ‘Yes, but did you see that I got to cook with Ina Garten?’”

Steve throws his head back on a laugh, and Bucky takes a moment to just admire the man like this. Steve is one of the kindest, most positive forces he’s ever met, and Bucky’s thrilled to be bringing him some measure of happiness in this moment.

“And hey,” Bucky smirks with a conspiratorial wink, and did Steve just _gulp?_ Huh. “I know I’m supposed to be on vacation, but if I pop by your place to talk films with Sam from time to time, you’ll keep it under your hat, right?”

“Suppose I could do you that favor,” Steve smiles. “As long as you really _do_ take it easy, Buck.”

“Yes, mom,” Bucky sighs, reveling in the giggle that escapes the blond.

Bucky chuckles as Steve waves to him from his front door, waving back at the blond. He sort of wishes Steve had invited him in or something, but the last thing he needs is the temptation of having him alone. He puts his Range Rover into drive and heads back to his loft.

 

* * *

 

There’s a tall, slim figure standing with his back to Bucky once he exits the elevator and steps into his hallway. But back turned or no, Bucky knows this man. His stomach churns, and it’s a struggle to keep the biscuits and gravy he’d had at brunch from making a reappearance.

The figure turns, and Bucky feels his entire body tense. The face is still handsome, only slightly more weathered and lined than the last time Bucky’d seen it. The blond hair is still thick and full, and his smile is still a thousand watts.

“I was wondering when you’d be home,” Alexander Pierce spreads his arms wide, and it’s all Bucky can do not to break down in tears outside his door. His mind is blank, unable to process the  fact that the man who’d abandoned him when he’d been at his lowest point is standing before him as though it had never happened.

“Aren’t you going to invite me in?” The smile is still on Pierce’s face, but there’s a hint of worry in his blue eyes.

Bucky finally finds his voice, and is surprised and gratified by how steady is sounds. “I don’t think so, no.”

“I’d encourage you to reconsider,” Pierce’s smile is icy as he pulls an envelope from the leather briefcase he’s holding. “I have some photos I think you’d be _very_ interested in seeing.”

And Bucky’s stomach drops because he knows exactly which photos Pierce is talking about.

He keys into the apartment silently, motioning Pierce to step inside.

“What do you want?” Bucky asks, hating how defeated he already sounds.

“Well, I’m in some financial trouble,” Pierce explains, that infuriating smile still on his handsome face. “Gambling. I need money. My sources tell me you won’t be in that cash cow of a sci-fi saga much longer, so I thought now would be the right time.”

“How much?” Bucky dreads the answer.

“Two million,” Pierce fixes him with his icy stare, daring Bucky to challenge him.

“Two million,” Bucky’s voice has taken on a sharp edge, and it clearly takes Pierce a little by surprise. The older man’s eyes widen as he takes a step back from Bucky, unused to hearing anything other than pleasant acquiescence from the younger man. “You made a fucking fortune off me for five years, and you need two million dollars?”

“Of course, you can always say no,” Pierce breezes, opening the envelope and tipping it. Dozens of photos spill out, and Bucky cringes back. Fury, humiliation and hopelessness battle within him, and he forces himself not to cry in front of this man who nearly destroyed him once already.

“But then,” Pierce continues. “I suppose I’d just have to sell these. Tell me, what do you think a tabloid would pay for photos like these?”

There’s a lump in Bucky’s throat as he stares down at photos of his younger self. He’s nude, posed seductively in each.

“Those were _private_ , you bastard,” Bucky grits out from between clenched teeth, his hands balled up into fists by his sides. “You fucking son of a bitch. You just _left_ me, and now you’re standing here blackmailing me.”

“So, is that a no?” Pierce grins, and Bucky wants nothing more than to haul off and belt this fucker across the mouth, but he keeps his temper in check. He stares at Pierce, steely eyes cold and angry.

“Tell you what,” Pierce says when it becomes clear Bucky’s not going to answer. He pulls a card from his pocket and places it on the table with the photos. “You think about it. Give me a call by noon tomorrow or they go to the highest bidder. I’ll leave the copies with you.”

Pierce turns that chilly smile toward Bucky again, and the brunet feels like he might be sick.

“How’d you find me?” he whispers, gray eyes filling with tears. “Why couldn’t you just leave me alone?”

Pierce’s laugh is as wintry as his smile, and Bucky flinches at the sound. “You’re famous again, kid. Doing _so_ well. Easy to track down. And I will leave you alone. Just as soon as you pay me what I’m owed.”

“What you’re owed?” Bucky thunders, anger coming to a head. “I don’t owe you shit, Pierce.”

“Don’t forget, _James_ ,” Pierce sneers. “I made you what you are. You would be nothing if I hadn’t taken you under my wing.”

“You took advantage of me in every way,” Bucky hisses. “And you nearly killed me. Get the fuck out, Pierce. Get out of my loft, get out of my life. I’ll be in touch.”

Once Pierce is out the door, Bucky slumps into his couch, head in his hands as he tries to remember how to inhale and exhale. His breath hitches on a small sob, and then the tears are flowing free as he curls into a ball, shaking. How had this day gone from absolutely incredible to one of the worst in his memory so quickly?

He reaches for his phone, and types out a short text to the one person he knows he needs right now. The one person who might be able to fix this.

_Come over now, please. It’s important_.

 

* * *

 

Steve’s phone buzzes with a text about thirty minutes after he gets home. He’s sitting on his couch, reading a book, having changed out of the jeans and button-up he’d worn to lunch and into a pair of basketball shorts and a tank. He smiles when he sees Bucky’s name flash, but that disappears when he reads the text from the brunet.

Something is _wrong,_ Steve can feel it deep in his bones, and he slides into a pair of sneakers, pulling up the Uber app on his phone and requesting a car. The black Lincoln pulls up to the house a scant two minutes later and they’re off.

_On my way now_ , Steve types out. He pauses for a moment, then sends Bucky a second message.

_Whatever it is, we’ll figure it out together._

 

* * *

 

Steve waves at Bucky’s doorman who knows him by sight now. The older man lets him in, smiling, and Steve attempts a quick grin in return before sprinting to the elevators. He hits the button for the penthouse, typing in the access code Bucky had texted him the night of their first meeting without having to search for it.

He rings the bell, bouncing on his heels as he waits for the brunet to answer. Steve staggers back a step as Bucky swings the door open because he’s never seen another human being look so utterly devastated, so broken, in his entire life.

Bucky’s face is blotchy and red, his eyes bloodshot and puffy. His lip trembles as he tries to keep it together in front of Steve, and Steve has to tamp down the tears rising to his own eyes. He needs to be in control of the situation, needs to take charge and solve whatever problem his client is about to throw at him. He _will not_ let Bucky down.

“Steve,” Bucky’s breath hitches, and the the brunet is propelling himself forward into Steve’s arms. Steve catches him, holding him tight against his chest as Bucky sobs into him. Steve pulls him close, running a hand through Bucky’s disheveled hair, barely registering how soft it is because all that matters right now is finding out what’s wrong and fixing it.

“Bucky,” Steve whispers, carding a hand gently through Bucky’s hair and rubbing what he hopes are soothing circles across his back. “Bucky, it’s okay. I promise, we’ll fix it, whatever it is.”

“He,” Bucky hiccups, grasping Steve as though he’s a life preserver. “Steve he came here. He came here, and he’s blackmailing me.”

“Who?” Steve pulls back, holding onto Bucky’s shoulders. “Bucky, who?”

“P-Pierce,” Bucky stammers out, gray-blue eyes swimming in tears.

Steve feels his body tense, fury building in his chest. _That son of a bitch._

“Come on,” Steve guides Bucky to the sofa, eyes lighting on a pile of photos of a much younger Bucky in some _very_ compromising positions. _Oh._

Bucky stares up at Steve, eyes pleading, _begging_ Steve not to hate him for this. As if Steve could.

“I’m assuming this is the blackmail material,” Steve’s voice is sharp, clipped, and Bucky flinches back away from him.

“I’m sorry,” Bucky whispers. “I’m so sorry, Steve, I-”

“Buck,” Steve reaches out, clasps the brunet’s hands in his own. “I’m not mad at you. I’m mad at _him_. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“I shouldn’t have,” Bucky’s starting to regain some control of his voice, but it’s still hard to understand the brunet as he tries to catch his breath. “I shouldn’t have let him take these pictures. God, I was so _stupid_.”

“This is not your fault,” Steve enunciates each word slowly, carefully. “You were young. You loved him. You thought he loved you.”

Bucky nods, biting his lip as fresh tears fill his eyes, and Steve’s heart breaks a little at that.

“We’re going to fix this,” Steve says, voice fierce, blue eyes blazing, and Bucky’s looking at him like he’s a knight in shining armor. Steve prays he can figure this out, can protect Bucky from Pierce this time. “I am not going to let him do this to you, do you understand?”

“Yes,” Bucky breathes, leaning into Steve, wrapping his arms around him. Steve hugs back arms tight around Bucky’s trembling frame. “Thank you.”

“I’m going to make us some tea,” Steve states as he pulls away. “Then you’re going to tell me exactly what happened and we’re going to discuss our options here.”

Bucky nods, and Steve rises and heads into the kitchen, the gears in his mind whirling at a speed they haven’t hit since Tony Stark’s DUI.

He will not let Pierce win. Not this time.

 

* * *

 

“We should call Nat,” Bucky sighs once he’s calmed down and told Steve what happened. He takes a sip of tea, grateful for the hot beverage. “She needs to know. I didn’t want to call her first. Not while I was so upset. She’d have flown off the handle; she hates Pierce.”

“Yeah, well, I gotta say he’s not real high up on my list of favorite people,” Steve grumbles, and Bucky barks out a raspy laugh. Steve’s smile is wide and his eyes are soft like getting Bucky to laugh in this situation is a precious gift. Bucky’s a little short of breath with the way Steve is gazing at him.

“You want me to call her?” Steve asks, and Bucky nods. He’s more than a little afraid he’s going to break down over the phone.

Natasha’s there 20 minutes later, looking like a worried mother hen. “What happened?”

“Pierce,” Steve’s voice is hard and cold, and the blond’s protective stance sends a shiver running down Bucky’s spine. “He’s back.”

Natasha drops into a chair, gaze fixed on Bucky. “Start talking,” she says, voice gentle but firm, and Bucky spills the story a second time. It’s a little easier to tell it now that he’s had some time to process the events, but panic still courses through his body, just below the surface, as he explains finding Pierce outside his door, the photos, the ultimatum.

Natasha glances Steve’s way once Bucky has finished. “What do we do?”

“Well,” Steve says, blue eyes focused on Bucky’s as he speaks. “The way I see it, we’ve got three options. The first is to pay off Pierce. I think it’s an awful idea, personally, since he’s liable to keep coming back if he knows he can get what he wants from you.”

Bucky nods, leaning forward, entranced by Steve’s authoritative manner. Watching the blond take command is sort of breathtaking, and Bucky thinks he’d be _very_ into it if it weren’t for the fact the Pierce is attempting to fuck him over again.

“The second is to ignore him and to deal with the fallout,” Steve sighs. “I hate that idea too. It’s not that it would be impossible to manage. The public would probably be on your side, but all the gory details of your relationship with Pierce will be splashed across the tabloids. We’ll have to go on the defensive first, and you don’t deserve to have to relive all this, to have to explain yourself when _he_ was the one who took advantage of _you_.”

“Those are both terrible fucking options, Rogers,” Natasha grumbles, folding her arms across her chest.

“Then let me present a third,” Steve’s smile is predatory, and _god_ , Bucky cannot believe that even in the midst of this chaos he can still feel desire for this man burning inside of him. “It’s a little underhanded, but god knows you have to play dirty in this town once in a while.”

“Spill it,” Nat commands.

“I have a connection in the LAPD,” Steve begins. “If we can prove Pierce is extorting Bucky, he could face jail time. Have you touched those photos?” Steve pauses, eyes fixed on Bucky.

“No,” Bucky shakes his head. “No, I didn’t want to touch them.”

“Good,” Steve grins. “Because I’d be willing to bet Pierce’s prints are on those. I doubt he thinks you’ve got the guts to bring in the authorities on this. You wanna prove him wrong?”

Bucky swallows, thinking about his options. The third certainly _seems_ the most palatable, but Bucky’s not an idiot. If Pierce is arrested, the news will get out and his story might go public anyway.

He says as much, and Steve nods.

“If it were to go to trial, there’s really not much we could do to keep the information from getting out,” Steve says. “But if Pierce is arrested, we control the narrative. Of course, the pictures would be admitted into evidence, but if your lawyer does her job, they’ll never see the light of day outside the courtroom. And if Pierce can be made to see reason, he’ll take a plea bargain and trial won’t be an issue.”

Bucky takes a moment, inhaling deeply and wishing desperately that he didn’t have to make this choice. But he knows he does. And he’s fucking tired of being passive when it comes to Pierce.

“Ok,” Bucky exhales. “Ok, call your contact. I’m not going down without a fight. Not this fucking time.”

Steve smiles, grasping Bucky’s hand, and Bucky wants to lean forward and kiss the blond to within an inch of his life, but Natasha’s _right there_ , so he refrains.

“I promise,” Steve reassures him. “That no matter what happens here, Buck, I’m with you. Til the end of the line, pal.”

“Thank you, Steve,” Bucky forces a smile, then turns to Natasha. “What do you think?”

“I think I’m with you too,” Natasha stands up, walks over to Bucky and pulls him up and into a tight hug. “We’ll get through this just like we got through all the other bullshit. Together.”

 

* * *

 

 Steve opens Bucky’s door when the bell rings and Detective Nick Fury steps through  and into the apartment. The tall-dark skinned man is intimidating, but Steve’s gotten to know him well enough that he’s simply grateful the man made time for them.

They explain the situation, and Fury listens carefully, taking notes so that he can file a report when he gets back to the office.

“Call Pierce,” he advises Bucky. “Tell him you’ll pay and set up a meeting time. Call me as soon as you’re off the phone with him. Hell, you can do it while I’m here if you want. Then, we’ll organize a sting operation. You ever worn a wire before, kid?”

“Uh, no,” Bucky stammers, looking slightly dazed, and Steve wants nothing more than to hold him.

“That’s all right, it’s not difficult,” Fury assures him. “You’ll have an earpiece, and we’ll be with you the whole time. We’ll help you get him talking. Now, he’ll most likely want to see the money. Can you get your hands on that much cash before tomorrow?”

“Yes,” Natasha answers Fury. “We can. Most of Bucky’s money is in investment accounts, and we can make some calls this afternoon.”

Bucky gazes over at Natasha gratefully, and Steve feels anger stronger than anything he’s ever felt coursing through his veins because they shouldn’t even have to have this fucking conversation. He can feel his hands tighten into fists. What he wouldn’t give to have Alexander Pierce here right now.

Fury stays while they make their phone calls, photographing the pictures on Bucky coffee table, then picking them up with gloved hands and placing them in a plastic envelope. Natasha does most of the talking to Bucky’s investment firm, letting the brunet save his energy for the call no one else can make. Steve watches Bucky take a deep breath, pacing as he dials the number on the card.

“Pierce,” Bucky’s voice is cold, steely eyes narrowed as he address the man. “If you promise to get the hell out of my life, I will pay you.”

Bucky pauses for a moment, listening.

“Yes,” he says. “Where? When?”

Bucky listens for a few more seconds, nodding along. “Got it.”

He hangs up and then drops, boneless into the sofa. His head is in his hands and he’s breathing hard. Steve sits beside him, rubbing his back gently until Bucky’s breath evens out.

“Ok,” Bucky breathes. “I’m ok. I can do this.”

Fury leaves a few minutes later, taking down all of their contact information in case he needs to reach them. Natasha hangs around a little longer, but has an early evening appointment with another client that she needs to prep for. Steve watches her embrace Bucky again, green eyes wide with concern as she whispers something to him. He smiles sadly, nodding at his friend and agent.

And then it’s just Bucky and Steve.

“So, I’ll totally get it if you’re busy,” Bucky can’t quite meet Steve’s eyes as he begins speaking. “But would you mind hanging here? I, uh, I don’t think I should be alone right now.”

“Of course,” Steve replies, patting the spot on the couch beside him. “We’ll order in junk food and watch bad movies.”

“Thank you,” Bucky places his hand in Steve’s, squeezing gently. Steve tightens his grip, wishing he could do more.

But as Bucky curls into his side, seeking physical reassurance, Steve thinks that maybe just being here is enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!


	6. I Like Him A Lot More Than I Should

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I’ll, uh,” Bucky replies. “I’ll understand, though, if you wanna hand in your notice after this is over.”
> 
> “What the hell are you talking about?” Steve’s eyes narrow, fixing him with that stubborn stare of which Bucky has so quickly grown fond. 
> 
> “I’m talking about how I’m more trouble than I’m worth, Steve,” Bucky drops his gaze. He knows he sounds defeated, but at this point he’s too tired to hide it. “You should stick to clients that aren’t such monumental fuck ups.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fluffy pining because the last chapter was heavy on the angst. I mean, this is still kind of angsty, but like "will they, won't they?" angsty. Hope you enjoy!

Bucky calls his director later that evening from his bedroom to explain that he won’t be available for filming tomorrow.

“Stomach flu or somethin’,” Bucky lies convincingly for once. “I feel like I got run over by a fuckin’ truck.”

Bucky knows he sounds like shit, and the director doesn’t question it. Just tells Bucky to rest up, get plenty of fluids and tells him they hope he’ll be back to work on Tuesday.

Bucky thanks the man and hangs up, heading back into the living room. Steve’s still there, sitting on Bucky’s couch, sipping a glass of water as the absurd plot of _Tremors_ unfolds on Bucky’s large flatscreen television. Bucky flops down beside the blond, a small smile on his face.

“Thank you,” he says, voice soft as Steve turns to looks at him. “I really appreciate you hangin’ around.”

“Of course,” Steve replies, nudging Bucky’s shoulder with his own.

“I just,” Bucky sighs, running a hand through his hair. “I just never thought he’d stoop so low. Leaving me was bad, you know? I know I was responsible for my drug problem, not Pierce, but it  really did suck when he just bailed on me when I really needed him. This, though.”

Steve reaches out, a strong hand gripping Bucky’s shoulder. “I know,” he says. “I mean, I don’t _know_. I can’t know. But I’m here for you.”

Bucky nods, the ache in his chest almost too much to bear. Steve is _so good_ , and he doesn’t deserve to be saddled with Bucky, even if it is only in the business sense. Steve deserves better than damaged goods.

“I’ll, uh,” Bucky replies. “I’ll understand, though, if you wanna hand in your notice after this is over.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Steve’s eyes narrow, fixing him with that stubborn stare of which Bucky has so quickly grown fond.

“I’m talking about how I’m more trouble than I’m worth, Steve,” Bucky drops his gaze. He knows he sounds defeated, but at this point he’s too tired to hide it. “You should stick to clients that aren’t such monumental fuck ups.”

“Bucky,” Steve’s voice is firm as he tilts Bucky’s chin up, forcing the brunet to look up, and Bucky feels like he might drown in the depths of Steve’s eyes. “I am not going to bail on you, do you understand? You are not a fuck up. You are a man who was thrown into a situation you weren’t prepared for when you were still just a kid. You were taken advantage of. You made mistakes. But you got the help you needed, you came out on top and you’re doing your best, which is damn good. I am not going to leave, and I am not going to let Pierce destroy everything you’ve worked for. You hired me to help you deal with shit like this. Let me do my job.”

Bucky’s taken aback by the speech, by the fiercely protective look in Steve’s eyes, by the way the blond’s thumb is running back and forth along his jawline. The pull between the two of them in this moment is magnetic, and Bucky feels himself leaning forward just as Steve is doing the same. Bucky can feel Steve’s breath against his chapped lips, the smell of the man’s light cologne making him a little dizzy. Bucky’s fingers itch to reach out, desperate to hold the man beside him close, to know every inch of him.

Steve lips are nearly on his own, Bucky can _feel_ them nearly brush against his.

Of course, _that’s_ the moment Steve’s phone begins to buzz, startling them both out of their strange trance. Steve jerks back, shaking his head as if to clear it, and grabs his cell.

“Nat,” Steve explains, and Bucky doesn’t miss the breathless tone of Steve’s voice. He feels an absurd swell of pride. _He_ did that.

Bucky nods, letting Steve know it’s fine if he wants to take the call. Steve answers, rising and walking out into Bucky’s kitchen.

Bucky slumps back against the couch cushions, torn between relief and regret. He wants Steve more than he can put into words, but he doesn’t want to screw up their working relationship, their budding friendship.

Because no matter what Steve says, fucking up is just what Bucky’s best at.

 

* * *

 

“Hey,” Steve answers his phone, still trying to catch his breath and wrap his head around the fact that he nearly just kissed his very emotionally compromised client. His heart's still racing, and he’s not sure if he’s grateful or annoyed that Natasha interrupted them. “What’s up?”

“Why do you sound like you just ran a mile?” Natasha asks, and Steve pulls the phone away from his mouth for a moment as he take a deep breath, trying to calm down.

“Sorry,” Steve huffs out a laugh that he hopes doesn’t sound too fake. “Watching a scary movie,” he exaggerates because _Tremors_ is certainly not a frightening film.

“Yeah, okay,” Natasha clearly doesn’t believe him, but Steve guesses she’s not going to question him further. “How’s he doing?”

“As well as can be expected, I think,” Steve replies. “He’s shook up, of course. He’s angry, sad, confused.”

“Confused?” Natasha’s voice is sharp. “What’s he got to be confused about?”

“I just don’t think he expected this,” Steve rushes to calm whatever suspicions Natasha has about what’s going on, but the redhead doesn’t miss the the way he hesitates or the way his voice cracks mid-sentence. _Fuck_.

“Steve,” Natasha snaps. “You tell me the truth. Now.”

"Are you really gonna make me spell out what you already know," Steve sighs. 

"Yes," Natasha says, and Steve can picture the stubborn set of her jaw, the way she's almost certainly standing with a hand on her hip as she waits for his response. 

“Nat, come on,” Steve pleads. “I don’t want to leave him alone too long.”

“Steven Grant Rogers, I swear to god,” Natasha’s volume increases with each word, and Steve knows that if he doesn’t just spill it now, the redhead might kill him.

“All right, look,” Steve whispers. “I was out of breath because he and I had a moment, and I almost kissed him.”

“Jesus Christ!” Natasha exclaims, and Steve winces at her volume.

“Look, I know,” Steve hisses. “I have a handle on it, I swear. I won’t let it happen. He is in a vulnerable place, and he’s my employer for fuck’s sake. It doesn’t matter how I feel about him. It can’t happen.”

“And how do you feel about him, Steve?” Natasha’s voice is suddenly soft and conciliatory in his ear.

“Fuck, Nat,” Steve breathes. “I’m an idiot, I really am. I like him a lot more than I should.”

“I figured as much,” Natasha sighs. “Look, just be careful, all right? You know how dangerous it can be in our line of work to mix business with pleasure.”

“I do,” Steve replies. “I do, and I promise Nat I’m going to keep it in check.”

“You know what they say about making promises you can’t keep,” Natasha chuckles.

“What?”

“Don’t,” Natasha replies, and then she’s gone.

Steve stares down at his phone wondering what the fuck he’s going to do now.

 

* * *

 

Bucky sprints away from the kitchen door and back to the couch, praying Steve can’t hear him. He’d figured they’d be talking about him, and he’d be damned if he wasn’t going to know what they were saying.

Of course, Bucky had gotten quite a bit more information than he’d bargained on.

Steve is _into him_. At least, that’s what “I like him a lot more than I should” suggests. Bucky’s heart is triphammering in his chest as he dives back onto his couch, a warmth blooming in his chest.

So, what to do with this information?

As much as he’d like to drag Steve to bed and have his wicked way with the blond, Bucky knows Steve has a point. He _is_ in a vulnerable place.

Of course, the fact that Steve is being gallant as fuck and putting Bucky’s needs and emotional state ahead of his own just makes Bucky’s desire for the other man that much stronger. The last thing Bucky wants, though, is for Steve to question whether or not Bucky actually wants him or if he’s just looking for reassurance during an emotionally trying time.

Steve pushes through the kitchen door, blue eyes wary as he makes his way back to the couch. Bucky stretches, yawning.

“I, uh, think I oughta hit the hay,” Bucky tells Steve. “You don’t have to stay if you don’t want to.”

“I’m staying,” Steve grins. “I’m not leaving you by yourself right now.”

“Fine, fine,” Bucky laughs, throwing his hands up in the air in surrender. “Spare blankets and pillows are in the linen closet next to the bathroom. My room’s at the end of the hall if you need anything.”

“Buck, we should probably talk about-” Steve begins, but Bucky cuts him off.

“Steve,” Bucky smiles. “It’s ok. We’re both exhausted. It was one of those heat of the moment things. No harm, no foul.”

“Oh,” Steve looks dazed and maybe even a little disappointed. “Yeah. Yeah, all right.”

Bucky steps into Steve’s personal space, hugging him quickly, and god it would be _so easy_ to just kiss the blond breathless, to lead him back to his bed. But Bucky pulls away, grinning shyly.

“Night, Steve,” he whispers. “See you in the morning.”

“Night, Buck,” Steve breathes, fixing Bucky with a look so intense it makes the brunet feel a little faint. He turns on his heel, heading for his room, knowing that he’ll probably need to jack off before he can get that heated gazed out of his head.

He wishes Steve was here, wishes it was his hand around his cock as his quiet gasps fill the room. But he knows Steve wants him, and for now, knowing is enough.

It has to be.

 

* * *

 

Steve lies awake on Bucky’s couch, tossing and turning, thinking of the way it had felt to cup Bucky’s face, to feel Bucky so close.

He huffs out a frustrated sigh, picking up his phone to check the time. Two in the morning. At this rate, there’s no way he’s sleeping. Unless…

Steve lets his hand slide down his toned stomach, past the elastic band of his boxer briefs. His fingers tease, then circle his half hard cock, and he pulls gently, whining softly as he begins to stroke.

He pictures eyes like the sky before a storm, pink lips open wide and slick with spit swallowing him down. He wonders what kind of sounds Bucky would make if Steve were to run his tongue along the other man’s entrance, sucking at the puckered flesh, and his hips arch up as he gasps.

Steve imagines his hand is Bucky’s tight heat, stretched wide, eager for his cock. His hips piston forward, pumping into his fist, and his bites down on a pillow to muffle his groan as he comes, imagining the brunet arching beneath him, crying out his name.

Steve drifts off, wishing more than anything that Bucky was beside him, cradled in his arms.

 

* * *

 

Bucky wakes early, tiptoeing into the living room so as not to disturb Steve if he’s asleep.

The blond slumbers undisturbed, and Bucky gazes down at him. His handsome face looks even younger than his thirty years, his chest rises and falls evenly, and Bucky can’t help but smile. Knowing Steve is looking out for him, that he cares about him, that he _wants_ him gives Bucky hope. It makes the daunting task of getting through this day seem possible.

Bucky’s pretty sure, he muses as he puts on a pot of coffee, that he can get through anything as long as Steve’s in his corner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thank you so much for reading, and a huge thank you to those of you who have left kudos, bookmarked or commented. Your encouragement is amazing, and I'm continually blown away but all of you.


	7. You Ready?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Natasha pulls up a few minutes later, sliding out of her sleek, black sedan with a leather briefcase in hand. She gives it to one of the officers, then makes a beeline for Bucky.
> 
> “Are you all right?” her voice is quiet but firm, tone indicating that if this all too much for him they can find another solution.
> 
> Bucky nods, hands tightening into fists. “I can do this,” he tells her. “I’m not going to let him ruin me again.”
> 
> “He didn’t ruin you,” Natasha whispers fiercely. “You’re too strong for that, Bucky.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New chapter! Hooray! Hope you guys like it!

Steve wakes to the smell of coffee wafting through the air, groaning softly as he stretches.

“Mornin’, sleeping beauty,” Steve hears Bucky laugh. Steve sits up and sees the brunet standing behind the couch, shirtless and holding a mug out to Steve. His hair is wet and disheveled and he’s wearing a pair of sinfully tight black jeans. Steve’s barely-awake brain can hardly handle the sight of so much tanned, toned flesh, and he can’t help but stare as he reaches out for the coffee.

“Got a call from Fury about ten minutes ago,” Bucky explains, either not noticing Steve’s gawking or pretending not to as he walks down the hallway toward his bedroom. Steve is only leaning in that direction so that he can hear Bucky, _not_ to admire the way the pert swell of the other man’s ass looks in those pants.

Bucky reappears a moment later, a soft chambray shirt hanging unbuttoned from his slender frame, and _fuck_ , Steve wants nothing more than to walk over and run his hands along the still-exposed plane of Bucky’s flat stomach.

“We need to stop in at the station in the neighborhood where Pierce wants to meet up and get me wired for sound,” Bucky states tossing a towel in Steve’s direction. “I’m gonna pace back and forth here in the living room. You’re gonna shower and get dressed. I have some clothes out on the bed. You’re a little slimmer in the hips than the last guy I dated, but I think it’ll do.”

“I should go get-” Steve begins, but Bucky cuts him off with a curt shake of his head.

“Rogers,” Bucky’s voice has a desperate edge Steve doesn’t like, and after the couple sips of coffee he’s had he can see the tension in Bucky’s body, the fear seeping through this matter-of-fact, business-as-usual act he’s putting on. “We don’t have time, and I need you with me on this. I can’t go alone.”

Steve nods, equal parts touched and surprised at the fact that Bucky wants him there when this all goes down. He drains the mug, scalding his tongue in the process, then rises to take a quick shower and dress.

They leave the loft thirty minutes later, Steve driving, Bucky beside him, left leg bouncing, which Steve assumes is a nervous tic.

Steve can’t blame Bucky there. He’s nervous too.

 

* * *

 

It seems, Bucky thinks as a couple of young officers mic him for this sting operation (the phrase is so dramatic in Bucky’s opinion, but it’s the only description that fits what they’re about to do), that his acting career has left him with at least one very useful skill. Bucky’s had plenty of practice wearing microphones over the years. The wire’s a little bulkier than studio or stage mics, but Bucky knows how to carry himself, how to hide the fact that he’s wearing it.

“All right,” Detective Fury addresses him, face somber as a graveyard. “First, do you think Pierce is armed?”

“I, uh,” Bucky grimaces. “I hadn’t thought of that. I doubt it. I don’t think Pierce wants to hurt me physically.” Bucky pauses, his voice taking on a noticeable edge as he continues. “Besides, if I’m giving him money now, he’ll want to keep me around in case he runs out again.”

“Keep that anger in check,” Fury nods. “It’ll be useful as long as you’re channeling it.”

Bucky nods, years of practice taking his emotions and using them to his advantage on screen allowing him to keep his cool. Or at least project the _image_ that he’s keeping his cool.

Natasha pulls up a few minutes later, sliding out of her sleek, black sedan with a leather briefcase in hand. She gives it to one of the officers, then makes a beeline for Bucky.

“Are you all right?” her voice is quiet but firm, tone indicating that if this all too much for him they can find another solution.

Bucky nods, hands tightening into fists. “I can do this,” he tells her. “I’m not going to let him ruin me again.”

“He didn’t ruin you,” Natasha whispers fiercely. “You’re too strong for that, Bucky.”

And then Natasha’s doing something she’s only done maybe four times in the years he’s known her: pulling him into a tight hug. Bucky wraps his arms around the redhead’s tiny frame as she squeezes him. She is afraid for him, he realizes. Afraid that maybe this time Pierce will break her friend beyond repair.

 _No,_ Bucky thinks. _No, I won’t let him, Nat. I’ll be strong this time. Like you were strong for me._

“Be careful,” Natasha’s green eyes are serious, her expression grave.

“Yeah, yeah,” Bucky grins, trying to lighten the mood. “I’ll be fine. You’ll be gettin’ ten percent of all my money for a while yet, Romanov.”

Bucky huffs out a laugh as Natasha’s fist connects with his arm, smiling as he rubs the sore spot. The moment of pain is worth the sight of a smirk gracing her pretty features.

“All right, everybody,” Fury calls out. “Time to move. You know your positions. Do not move until I give the go ahead. And, Barnes?”

“Yes, detective?” Bucky grins.

“If it goes south, you get the fuck outta dodge, you hear me?” Fury commands. “That goes for both of you,” he continues, directing a loaded look at Steve. “Do not play the hero again.”

 _Again?_ Bucky puts a pin in that for later.

Ten minutes later, he and Steve stand at the entrance of an abandoned warehouse that probably should have been condemned somewhere in the mid-nineties.

“You ready?” Steve’s blue eyes are brimming with a mixture of concern and determination, and Bucky needs to remind himself to breathe as his heart stutter steps in his chest.

“As I’ll ever be,” Bucky exhales, stepping inside the dark, damp building with the blond by his side.

 

* * *

 

Steve stays close to Bucky as they navigate the cracked floor, stepping carefully to avoid any unevenness. The last thing either of them needs is to twist an ankle.

The two of them walk into a large, empty room, their eyes blinded for a moment by the brilliant sunlight coming through large windows. Broken glass crunches beneath Steve’s feet, and he’s wondering when the hell Pierce is going to show when he hears a deep, unfamiliar voice to his right.

“I don’t remember saying you could bring company, James,” Alexander Pierce says as he steps out of a shadowy spot, blond hair gleaming, the sunlight glinting from the glasses he’s wearing. Steve’s hands itch at his sides, and he curls them into fists. He wants to hurt this man as badly as Pierce has hurt Bucky, but he stays silent, waiting for Bucky to answer the older man.

“Oh, right, like I’m going to come into this area by myself with a briefcase full of cash,” Bucky snarks, voice remarkably calm. Pierce glares, but steps forward, hesitating to see how Steve will react to the movement before coming closer. It’s this hesitation that convinces Steve that the man is unarmed. His size isn’t much of a deterrent is somebody’s packing heat, he figures, but his presence is definitely making the older man nervous.

“You have the money, then?” Pierce asks, gesturing to the briefcase.

“I do,” Bucky holds it up. “You have the photos?”

“Of course not,” Pierce’s smile is as icy as his pale blue eyes, and Steve’s not one to use the word ‘hate,’ but he’s fairly certain that’s what he’s feeling. “I said I wouldn’t _sell_ the photos if you brought the money. I never said I’d _give_ you the photos.”

“Alex, please,” Bucky whispers, and for a moment the older man’s eyes seem to soften. “Please don’t do this to me. Haven’t you done enough?”

“As I said yesterday, James,” Pierce begins, any trace of compassion evaporating in an instant. “You wouldn’t even be here if it weren’t for me. And I might want things from you in the future. The photos are good insurance that you’ll give me what I need.”

Pierce steps forward, hand reaching out to touch Bucky’s face. Steve doesn’t recognize the snarl that rips from his throat - he’s never made that sound before - as he moves to stand between his client and the man who’s threatening to destroy him.

“Don’t you fucking touch him,” Steve’s voice is low, his body coiled and waiting to spring as he glares at Pierce.

“Ah,” Pierce grins. “Soft spot for James here, eh? He is awfully pretty, isn’t he?”

“That’s none of your business, Pierce,” Steve’s voice is full of a hostility of which he didn’t know he was capable. “Give him the fucking pictures.”

“‘Fraid I can’t do that, handsome,” Pierce smirks, and it takes every fiber of restraint in Steve’s body not to belt him across his smug mouth. “Even if I wanted to, I don’t have them.”

Steve ‘s lips curl up in a sneer, but Bucky pulls Steve back, thrusting the briefcase forward into Pierce’s hands.

“Just take it,” Bucky says, sounding absolutely miserable. “Just take it and leave me alone.”

“Can’t make any promises, James,” Pierce chuckles. “I have a feeling I’ll need some help once I get these debts paid off. And who knows? Maybe you and I can re-establish our old _arrangement_. I’ll see you soon.”

Pierce turns to go, but at that moment, Fury and about six other officers are entering the room, blocking each exit.

“Well, now,” Fury grins, and Steve can’t help but smile. “What have we here? This looks a lot like a crime.”

Pierce’s eyes widen with fright and then he’s sprinting toward one of the doors. He doesn’t get very far before two of the officers are on him, wrestling him to the ground and cuffing him.

“I want a lawyer,” Pierce grimaces as the officers pull him to his feet. “I want a lawyer now.”

“Alexander Pierce,” Fury booms, ignoring the man entirely. “You are under arrest on the charges of extorting one James Buchanan Barnes. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law.”

“You have the right to an attorney,” Fury thunders over Pierce’s protests that he wants a lawyer, and that shuts the other man up. “Present before and during your questioning. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be provided to you. Do you understand these rights as I have read them to you?”

Pierce is glaring daggers at Bucky now, his lined yet handsome face curled into a hateful, sneering mask, but Bucky simply stares him down, and Steve is so proud of his friend he could burst.

“Pierce?” Fury’s shouting. “Do you understand these rights as I have read them to you?”

“Yes,” Pierce growls, and then the officers are hauling the man out of the warehouse and, presumably, into the back of a police cruiser.

Steve hears a soft, “Oh,” beside him and then Bucky’s knees are giving way and Steve’s there just in time to keep the brunet from falling. Bucky’s arms clutch Steve tight and his face is white as a sheet.

“Hey,” Steve says softly, lowering them both to the ground gently. “Hey, I’m right here, Buck. You’re ok. You’re safe now. Just breathe with me, ok?”

Steve begins to breathe deeply, inhaling and exhaling slowly, and Bucky mimics the technique. The color slowly begins to return to his pallid face and he begins to loosen his grip on Steve’s arms.

“Ok,” Bucky breathes after a few minutes, still looking paler than Steve would like, but sounding more like himself. “I’m ok. Thank you.”

Fury kneels down beside the two of them.

“You did great,” he grins at Bucky. “Both of you, even if you did get a little aggressive there, Rogers. I’m going to take the wire with me back to the station now and get what was recorded into evidence. Go grab a bite to eat, get some water into your system and come down to the station when you’re finished. We’ll need to speak with both of you, get your official statements.”

“Got it,” Steve replies, standing and then pulling Bucky to his feet. “I’ll call you when we’re on our way over, all right?”

Fury nods, clapping a hand to Bucky’s shoulder. “You really did do great, kid.”

“Thanks,” Bucky huffs out a breathless laugh. “Guess I really am a decent actor.”

Fury chuckles, winking at Steve as he heads out.

“Come on,” Steve wraps an arm around Bucky’s shoulders, guiding him to the exit. “Let’s get you something to eat.”

 

* * *

 

Bucky finally feels a little more like himself after downing a couple glasses of water and several of tacos at a hole-in-the-wall taqueria near the police station. Natasha has joined him and Steve for lunch, and the two of them can’t seem to stop asking Bucky if he’s all right or if he needs anything.

“Guys,” he sighs. “I get it. I just had to deal with a very stressful and emotional situation. But I swear to god, I’m fine. Please breathe, ok? I’m right here, safe and sound. I’m not gonna break.”

Steve and Natasha both have the grace to look chastened, and Bucky’s heart swells. He gets that these two people are his employees, but he knows better than to believe that’s all they are. They’re his friends, and he’s pretty sure he’s the luckiest guy on the planet in spite of recent events.

Once they’ve finished lunch, the three of them head over to the station to give their statements. It takes a while, but Bucky appreciates how seriously the case is being taken, how thorough the department is being. Still, he’s exhausted once they can finally leave.

“You wanna go home?” Steve asks Bucky as they step out into the warm evening air. “I’ll take you. But if you guys don’t wanna be alone yet, you can come back to my place for dinner.”

Bucky and Nat exchange a glance, and nod simultaneously.

“Dinner with friends sounds perfect after a day like today,” Natasha grins. “I’ll stop for a bottle of wine.”

“Several bottles,” Bucky chuckles. “I’ll be back on my alcohol sabbatical tomorrow, but I think I deserve a treat after today. I want at least one sweet red, Romanov. I don’t care if it offends your sophisticated palate.”

Steve and Natasha smile. Neither of them are going to argue with that logic.

 

* * *

 

“You two look like you’ve had maybe the worst day of all time,” Sam says after Steve and Bucky enter the living room, their arms laden with boxes of pizza. They both look exhausted, their faces a little too pale, and Sam wonders what the hell his roommate has been up to since yesterday.

“We’ll explain when Nat gets here with the wine,” Bucky chuckles as they place the pizzas on the dining table. “I’ll need to be drinking for this story.”

“Bucky, you don’t need to-” Steve begins, and Sam grins as Bucky holds up a hand and Steve’s mouth snaps closed. If only he could silence the blond that quickly when they got into arguments over who’s turn it is to scrub down the bathroom.

“Sam’s your friend,” Bucky says. “I’m not gonna make you keep this from him. I’m sure he’s wondering where the hell you’ve been. Besides, if you trust him, so do I.”

The way Steve blushes at that is fucking _hysterical_ , and Sam actually has to leave the room, shouting “Plates!” when they ask where he’s going because he needs a moment to compose himself.

The doorbell rings, and Sam tells them that he’s got it as he places four plates down on the table beside the pizzas.

“Uh,” Sam stutters as he takes in the sight of the curvy redhead on their doorstep once he opens their door. “Hey, Nat." 

It's little like he's seeing the woman for the first time. Somehow he'd been so wrapped up in talking with Bucky about potential projects at brunch that he'd missed how heart-stoppingly gorgeous Natasha Romanov is.

“Hey, Sam,” the woman smiles, and _wow,_ Sam is pretty sure he’s lost the ability to ever process rational thought again. "You wanna help me carry in this wine I brought?"

Sam nods and follows Natasha to her car, silently thanking whatever it is that’s in charge of the universe for Bucky Barnes wandering into Steve’s life and bringing the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen along with him.

 

* * *

 

Bucky explains what’s been happening over the course of the last two days, after which he declares that there’s a moratorium on the subject of Alexander Pierce for the rest of the evening.

“I’m probably going to have to talk about it tomorrow and the day after that and then for god knows how long, so I’d like a break.”

No one argues. Instead, the four of them eat too much pizza, drink too much wine and make fun of an old Lifetime Original Movie they find playing. Bucky can’t help but smile at the way Sam’s eyes dart to Natasha every couple minutes as though he’s trying to make sure she’s real. She has that effect on a lot of men.

Steve is beside him warm and solid, and Bucky curls into him a little since it _is_ a little cramped on the couch. Steve doesn’t seem to mind, draping an arm around Bucky’s shoulders, providing him with the gentle physical reassurance he needs after the past 48 hours.

He rests his head on Steve’s shoulder, letting himself drift.

Bucky wakes briefly several hours later. The room is dark and he’s sprawled across the couch as Steve pulls a blanket over him.

“Hey,” he whispers, voice hoarse with sleep. “Whatcha doin’?”

“You’re staying here tonight,” Steve replies, honest-to-god _tucking Bucky in_. The blond runs a hand through Bucky’s hair and he leans into the gentle touch. “I’ll wake you in time to get you over to the set.”

“Mmmk,” Bucky mumbles, smiling. “Night, Stevie.”

Bucky’s eyes are closed, so he misses the adoring smile on Steve’s face, but he does feel soft lips touch his forehead for just a moment. He sighs, content.

“Night, Buck.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading, for leaving kudos, for bookmarking this story, for subscribing, for leaving comments, just. Thank you.


	8. Can I Ask You Something?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “So,” Bucky chirps, a mischievous smile that makes Steve a little nervous lighting up his features. “Can I ask you something?”
> 
> “Uh, sure,” Steve replies, butterflies swirling in his stomach at the look in Bucky’s eyes.
> 
> “Do you remember the first time I came to your house?” Bucky asks.
> 
> Steve laughs, nodding. “Is that the question?”
> 
> “No,” Bucky grins. “This is. What was Sam _really_ going to say before you interrupted him?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's a real neat front of storms rolling through my area, so I figured it'd be best to post this before we lose power and internet. It's time for some fun, friends :) Hope you guys enjoy this!

Steve nudges Bucky the next morning around six, smiling as the brunet stretches, his back arching as he groans.

“Five more minutes,” Bucky whines, and Steve has to suppress a giggle at the pout on the other man’s face.

“Come on,” Steve grins. “Gotta get you to the set. Get you back into something resembling normalcy.”

“Rogers,” Bucky grumbles, rubbing his eyes. “Nothing about my life is normal even when it’s going the way it’s supposed to be going.”

Still, Bucky pulls himself up off the couch, hands stretching up toward the ceiling. He must have gotten warm sometime during the night, Steve reasons, since he’s standing there in nothing but a pair of navy boxer briefs.

Steve’s eyes trail up Bucky’s body, taking in the slim hips, the flat stomach, the toned chest and arms, finally meeting the other man’s eyes which look a little darker than usual. The brunet’s lips quirk up in a smirk.

“Didn’t your mother ever teach you it’s rude to stare, Rogers?” Bucky practically purrs, and Steve feels his mouth go dry as the other man saunters past him to get to the bathroom. The way Bucky’s hips swing makes Steve think that the brunet _knows_ Steve has turned to continue his study of Bucky’s lithe frame.

Bucky turns back, winking at Steve before he closes the bathroom door, and thank god the couch is right there because Steve’s legs are basically Jell-O all of a sudden.

 

* * *

 

“So, I wanted to say thanks again,” Bucky tells Steve as the blond drives him to the set once they’ve both gotten cleaned up and had a cup of coffee. “You’ve gone above and beyond here, you know?”

“I could tell you I’m just doing my job,” Steve’s smile is tentative, as though he’s not sure he should be saying this. “And that’s part of it. But - and I hope this isn’t too presumptive - I think of you as a friend, Buck. Not just a client.”

_And I also have a huge fucking crush on you, but let's not get into semantics, okay?_

“You say that like I’m gonna have a problem with it,” Bucky chuckles. “We _are_ friends, Steve. Especially after what you’ve done for me.”

Steve fidgets, blushing, and Bucky’s tempted to reach out and place a hand on Steve’s thigh, but he holds back.

“I did have a question, though,” Bucky grins.

“Shoot,” Steve replies, as he makes a quick left before the light they’re at changes from yellow to red.

“Why was Fury so concerned you might try to play the hero?  And what did he mean _again_?”

Steve glances at Bucky, huffing out a laugh and shaking his head.

“Well,” Steve begins. “I may have been at a convenience store while it was being robbed a few years ago. And, you know, I might have done something a little bit dumb.”

“Define a little bit dumb,” Bucky grins.

“I mean, I maybe tackled an armed man so that he didn’t hurt the kid behind the register,” Steve mumbles, but Bucky catches every word.

“You did _what?”_ Bucky exclaims, throwing his hands into the air. “Steve, you could have gotten yourself _killed!_ ”

“But I didn’t,” there’s a sheepish smile on Steve’s face as he pulls up to the set. “So, that’s how Fury knows me. We see each other around from time to time; we’re sort of buddies, I guess.”

“Christ, Rogers,” Bucky chuckles. “You’ve got a hell of a hero complex, don’t you?”

“I just don’t like bullies,” Steve shrugs, and Bucky’d love to just lean over and kiss him right now because on top of being the hottest guy Bucky’s ever seen, Steve’s so good it makes Bucky’s chest ache.

“Do me a favor, and don’t ever play the hero again,” Bucky grins as he exits Steve’s car, throwing another wink his way so that he can admire the blush that spreads across the blond’s cheeks. It really is adorable. “I need you around, all right?”

“All right,” Steve sighs, but he’s smiling. “See you, Buck.”

“Later, Rogers.”

 

* * *

 

“So nice of you to join us,” Brock sneers as Bucky approaches the trailers designated for wardrobe and makeup, watching Steve drive off. “Glad you could tear yourself away from your newest boy toy.”

“Why, Brock,” Bucky bats his eyelashes, a coy smile on his face. “Do I detect a hint of jealousy?”

Brock doesn’t say a word, his jaw clenching tight as he glares at his co-star, and Bucky thinks maybe he’s hit a nerve. He nearly feels sorry for the other man.

“Do me a favor,” Bucky calls over his shoulder as he heads to wardrobe to get into his costume. “Don’t speak to me for the remainder of filming unless it’s for a scene, all right? I think it’ll make things much more bearable for both of us.”

 

* * *

 

The next week flies by in a blur. They film scene after scene, and Bucky goes home exhausted every night. Brock’s still unpleasant when they’re not filming, but he seems to have decided that leaving Bucky alone is his best course of action. Bucky’s grateful for that.

Despite the tension between the two of them, shooting Bucky’s death scene the Friday of their second to last week of filming goes incredibly well. After watching the playback, Bucky’s pretty sure there won’t be a dry eye in the house. Bucky’s glad they’d wanted to get the action-heavy and emotional sequence done before their last week. The rest of the scenes he needs to film will be a breeze in comparison.

He’s heading back to his trailer when he sees Steve and Nat making their way toward him. He smiles at his friends, waving them over and motioning them into the trailer.

“What’s up, guys?” Bucky asks as he gets himself a glass of water and leans against the sink.

“Pierce is out on bail,” Natasha explains. “We thought you should know. The D.A. tried to keep him in county lockup, since the guy's got some outstanding warrants in Nevada as well as California, but Pierce’s lawyer managed to convince the judge that he’s not a flight risk. Fury wants you to come by the station when you’re done here, file a restraining order.”

“Right,” Bucky nods, head swimming, wishing this whole mess was done with. “Of course. That makes sense.”

“I don’t think you should be alone,” Steve says. “Pierce knows where you live, and he’s gotta be pretty pissed. We can get you a hotel room or something, but honestly, I’d feel better if you stayed with me and Sam for a while.”

Bucky glances over at Natasha who is watching their conversation with interest. “What do you think?”

“I think Steve has a point,” Natasha concedes. “I want your life to go on as usual, but right now, what I want most is for you to be safe. I’d say you can have the guest bedroom at my place, but Pierce knows where I live and he knows I’m your agent now. You’re safer with Steve.”  
  
Bucky nods, taking a deep breath. “All right.”

 

* * *

 

Steve drives Bucky over to the station to file the restraining order, then back to his apartment so that the other man can pack extra clothes and toiletries. He sits on Bucky’s couch, wringing his hands. He’d have offered to just stay with Bucky, sleep on his couch for the foreseeable future, but the truth is he doesn’t entirely trust himself to be alone with the brunet. Sam’s presence will keep Steve in check.

And it does for the first couple days. The three of them lay low, taking turns cooking dinner each night. Bucky still flirts with Steve here and there, and Steve has to remind himself more than once that nothing should happen between them when they’re alone in his car on the way to and from the set, but Sam’s an ever present chaperone when they’re all home. Steve’s beyond grateful that Sam doesn’t mind their house guest and that he’s ignoring the strange tension between Bucky and Steve. He makes a mental note to get Sam a good bottle of whatever liquor he wants when this is all over.

Of course, Steve’s carefully laid plans to keep his stupid crush on Bucky under wraps completely implode when they get back from the set the following Tuesday, and Sam is nowhere to be found.

Steve calls out to his roommate, letting him know they’re back and that they bought sandwiches for dinner. He heads to the kitchen to grab a couple glasses of water when he sees the note on the fridge.

 _Hey man,_  
_My sister had the baby! It’s a girl, and they named her Samantha - after me! Anyway, I’m driving up to San Francisco and staying for a couple days. Stay out of trouble while I’m gone._ _  
_ -Sam

Well, shit.

 _You can do this_ , Steve tells himself. _You have self control. Exercise it._

Somehow, he doesn’t think it’ll be that easy.

 

* * *

 

After dinner, Steve and Bucky settle into the couch to relax. Steve turns on the TV, flipping through channels until he lands on a _Chopped_ marathon. Good enough, he figures. They sit together in comfortable silence, watching the chefs try to figure out how to come up with an appetizer that marries together a bevy of seemingly mismatched ingredients.

The silence doesn’t last long.

“So,” Bucky chirps, a mischievous smile that makes Steve a little nervous lighting up his features. “Can I ask you something?”

“Uh, sure,” Steve replies, butterflies swirling in his stomach at the look in Bucky’s eyes.

“Do you remember the first time I came to your house?” Bucky asks.

Steve laughs, nodding. “Is that the question?”

“No,” Bucky grins. “This is. What was Sam _really_ going to say before you interrupted him?”

Steve feels his stomach drop. _Shit_. “What do you mean?”

“I mean Sam was about to say something about how excited you were to be working for me that day and you cut him off. You looked like you were about ready to die. I want to know what he was going to say.”

“It’s embarrassing,” Steve mumbles, wringing his hands together. He feels Bucky nudge his side and looks up to see his stormy eyes sparkling.

“Rogers,” the brunet smirks. “My ex showed up trying to blackmail me with naked photos, which to my utter mortification _you_ saw, and you think whatever _Sam_ was about to say was embarrassing? Come on, now.”

Steve laughs, his heart racing because Bucky’s sitting _very_ close to him now.

“Well, when you put it that way,” Steve sighs. “He, uh, he was about to say that you were the guy who made me realize-” Steve pauses, wondering how to say this without coming off like a total weirdo.

“Realize what?” Bucky prompts, placing a hand on Steve’s knee, and _shit_ , that is distracting. Bucky’s thumb is tracing lazy circles, and Steve can feel the heat through his jeans. It’s intoxicating and he can’t really focus on anything else.

“Realize, uh,” Steve stammers, somehow finding his voice. “That I’m, um. That I’m bisexual.”

Bucky’s grin disappears, replaced by a look of stunned disbelief. “Are you serious, Rogers? _Me?_ ”

“Uh, yeah,” Steve chuckles, tensing slightly. “Peg and I went to see the first _Sudden Justice_ together when it first came out and I, um, kind of couldn’t take my eyes off you. I’d never seen a guy who’d made me feel. Well.”

Bucky’s staring at him, his steely gaze intense, and Steve wants to know what’s going through his head. And then all of a sudden they’re nose-to-nose, Bucky’s lips millimeters from his own.

“What did I make you feel, Steve?” Bucky breathes, and Steve shivers as the hand on his knee tightens its grip. He inhales sharply as Bucky moves slowly, nose trailing along Steve’s cheek and down his neck, nuzzling gently. Then Steve feels Bucky’s lips, soft and pliant against his throat and he can’t stifle a soft gasp.

“Tell me,” Bucky urges between open-mouthed kisses along Steve’s neck. “Tell me what I made you feel.”

“Buck,” Steve whines as he feels Bucky’s teeth graze his skin, leaving goosebumps in their wake. He’s hardening rapidly as Bucky slides a hand up his thigh, so close to where Steve needs him. “Please.”

“Tell me, Steve,” Bucky’s voice is low and commanding, and _Christ_ , Steve can’t breathe.

“I wanted you,” Steve gasps as Bucky continues to kiss along his neck, sucking bruises into the flesh. “God, I wanted you. I still do.”

Bucky pulls back, nose brushing Steve’s as their eyes meet.

“You want me?” Bucky whispers. “Go ahead, Steve. Take what you want.”

“Bucky,” Steve breathes, and then he’s tangling his hands in the brunet’s hair and pulling him forward, kissing him the way he’s been dreaming of doing since he was twenty years old.

 

* * *

 

When Steve’s lips finally meet his, Bucky melts into the kiss. Steve’s hands are everywhere, gentle and demanding all at once. His tongue pushes past Bucky’s lips, exploring his mouth, and Bucky moans as Steve pulls him into his lap.

Bucky straddles Steve, grinding down, and Steve _growls_ , biting down on Bucky’s bottom lip. Bucky keens low in his throat as Steve thrusts upward, and he’s desperate to get rid of the layers between them, to finally feel Steve’s skin against his own.

“Steve,” Bucky gasps as Steve begins to kiss a fiery trail along his jawline. “Steve, _please_.”

Steve maneuvers them so that Bucky’s laying on his back, and the brunet revels in the heat of Steve’s body as the other man hovers above him.

“Bucky,” Steve rasps, his voice hoarse with want that Bucky understands all too well. “Are you sure about this?”

“Yes,” Bucky breathes. “God, yes, Steve. I don’t care if it’s a conflict of interest. I want you. I’ve wanted you from the first moment I saw you.”

Bucky pushes Steve back a little, then sits up and pulls off his t-shirt, reveling in the way Steve’s blue eyes darken as they rake across his body.

“Christ, Buck” Steve breathes reverently, pushing him back against the cushions gently and running a hand down his chest. “So beautiful.”

“Steve,” Bucky groans as Steve’s hand cups him through his jeans, rubbing gently. “Steve, please. I want you so bad.”

“Shhh,” Steve soothes him, lowering his comforting weight onto Bucky and wrapping strong arms around him. Steve kisses him fiercely, thrusting his hips slowly and lazily, driving Bucky crazy with friction that isn’t nearly enough. Bucky moans as Steve begins kissing and biting at his neck, fingers toying with one of his nipples.

“Steve,” he gasps. “Steve, come on. You’re wearing way too much clothing.”

Steve laughs breathlessly, pulling back.

“You’re probably right,” he grins, pulling off the sweater and undershirt he’s wearing, and Bucky shivers at the feel of Steve’s chest against his as the blond leans down to kiss him. Then Steve begins mouthing his way down Bucky’s chest, lingering to suck on each of Bucky’s nipples. Bucky writhes below him, whimpering at the feel of Steve’s teeth grazing the tender flesh.

Steve moves lower, trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses down Bucky’s stomach. He makes quick work of the button and zipper of Bucky’s jeans, sliding them and his briefs downward, past strong thighs and off his legs.

“God, Bucky,” Steve breathes as his eyes linger on Bucky’s bare frame, his fingers circling Bucky’s cock. “Can I?”

Bucky looks down into Steve’s eyes, the blue nearly swallowed up by the black of his pupils.

“Fuck yes,” he breathes, then cries out as he’s engulfed in the wet heat of Steve’s mouth.

 

* * *

 

Steve is having a hard time processing the fact that the actor who’d helped him come to terms with his sexuality, who he’s had a crush on since he was in college, is writhing below him, cock hot and heavy in his mouth. Bucky’s hips thrust forward, and Steve moans at the the feeling, resolving to enjoy now and think later. He hollows his cheeks, sucking hard and hardening further as Bucky lets loose a stream of curses and pleas.

Of course, Steve _should_ stop. He should stop because Bucky’s his client, his employer and this is potentially a terrible idea. But the way Bucky moves below him is hypnotizing, and Steve can’t think about anything other than the taste of Bucky on his tongue or the fact that the brunet seems to want this just as much as he does.

“Steve,” Bucky gasps, threading his fingers through Steve’s short hair, tugging gently. Steve groans around the other man, and Bucky whimpers. Steve likes that sound _a lot_. He wants more of it. He pulls back, sucking hard at the tip of Bucky’s cock, tonguing the slit, and the taste of salty precome makes him shudder.

Bucky whines, a high, desperate sound as Steve pulls off of his cock with a wet _pop_. “Bedroom,” Steve commands, not really recognizing the authority in his voice. From the way Bucky shivers below him, he guesses the brunet doesn’t mind.

“What’s wrong with here?” Bucky gasps, grinding his spit-slick erection against Steve’s thigh.

“Nothing, really,” Steve grins. “But I want you on your stomach so I can eat you out, and I’m kind of doubting Sam will appreciate stains on the couch.”

 

* * *

 

Bucky loses whatever bit of coherent thought he still has at the thought of Steve’s tongue in his ass.

“Oh,” he exhales, pulling Steve in for a kiss. The blond tastes a little like Bucky, and _god_ , Bucky can barely breathe he’s so aroused. He can’t remember the last time he’s wanted anyone so badly. He’s guessing that that’s the result of weeks of pent-up sexual frustration and the fact that Steve is basically the most perfect human being he’s ever known.

He lets Steve pull him up off the couch and lead him into his bedroom. Steve pulls Bucky into another kiss, hands gripping Bucky’s ass, and he arches into Steve. The blond pulls back, looking a little dazed.

“Lie down on your stomach,” Steve’s voice manages to be commanding and breathless with need all at once, and the combination has Bucky fighting for air. He does as he’s told, groaning when he feel Steve’s thumbs spread his cheeks wide, the blond’s hot breath on his skin leaving him dizzy and excited.

“I’m gonna take such good care of you,” Steve breathes, and Bucky shivers at the desire in the other man’s voice. “You deserve something good, Buck.”

Bucky’s breath hitches at the feel of Steve’s lips against him, and he bites back a scream at the first swipe of Steve’s tongue across his puckered hole. He fists his hands in Steve’s sheets, gasping and choking back moans.

He whimpers as Steve pulls away, breath ghosting along sensitive skin.

“Don’t hold back,” Steve’s voice is gravelly with need, and Bucky’s mesmerized by the sound because Steve is _actually_ _getting off on this_. “Wanna hear you, Buck.”

“Steve,” Bucky breathes. “ _Please_.”

Steve’s tongue is back on him a moment later, and Bucky moans, hips grinding into the mattress as Steve’s tongue breaches his entrance.

“Hnnngh, Steve,” Bucky whines as Steve cups his balls, taking a moment to lick and suck them before returning to Bucky’s ass. It’s not like no one’s ever done this to Bucky before, but Steve is so _into it_. The other man’s breath is coming in audible gasps, and he moans as Bucky clenches around his tongue. Bucky cries out at the feel of those vibrations, his cock jumping against the sheets.

“Steve,” Bucky moans as the blond begins to work a finger into him. “Fuck, I’m so close. _Please, Steve.”_

Steve increases his pressure, the sound of his tongue lapping at Bucky so loud and obscene in the bedroom that Bucky thinks he might faint. Steve keeps it up, curling the finger inside Bucky so that it grazes his prostate, and then Bucky’s spilling onto Steve’s sheets, shaking with the force of his orgasm.

Bucky lets Steve flip him over, but he’s surprised when Steve simply pulls him close, cupping Bucky’s face in his hands and kissing him gently. Steve runs his fingers through Bucky’s hair, and the smile on the other man’s face has Bucky’s heart stuttering in his chest.

“I can’t tell you how long I’ve wanted to do that,” Steve chuckles softly, and Bucky huffs out a breathless laugh of his own.

“Well,” Bucky grins, fingers reaching out and circling Steve’s cock. Steve groans, fucking into Bucky’s hand and burying his face in the brunet’s neck. “I’d like to return the favor. Tell me what you want.”

“Your,” Steve gasps as Bucky twists his wrist slightly, shuddering as he tries not to come too soon. “Your mouth. Please, Bucky.”

“Whatever you want, Steve,” Bucky whispers, sliding down until he’s eye level with Steve’s hardened member. “I’ll give you anything you ask for.”

It only takes a few minutes of Bucky hollowing his cheeks, sucking hard as he runs his tongue along Steve’s shaft, before the blond is coming hot and salty down his throat, and Bucky savors every fucking moment, every jerk of the other man’s hips, every shiver that runs through his body.

They curl up together, naked limbs entwining, avoiding the wet spot Bucky left behind. Bucky knows they should talk about this, about what it means for them. But as Bucky drifts off to sleep feeling safe and warm for the first time in weeks, he knows it can wait until morning.

Steve will be there. Bucky knows he can count on that.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I thought about drawing this out for another couple of chapters, but I kind of like them just going for it and then having to figure things out later. I hope you guys don't hate it! Thanks for reading! You're all wonderful :)


	9. Give This A Shot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You,” Steve takes a deep breath, and Bucky allows hope to bloom in his chest at the smile on the other man’s face. “You like me?”
> 
> “Uh, duh, Steve,” Bucky grins. “I flirt with you, like, all the time against my better judgment. And against Nat’s advice.”
> 
> “I just,” Steve looks dazed, and Bucky’s glad the other man’s sitting down because he doubts Steve would be all that steady on his feet. “I just kind of assumed it was a one-time deal, you know? Like you just needed a release for all the tension.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A chapter in which everything basically goes right because the boys need a breather. Enjoy the fluff!

Steve wakes as the first weak light of dawn begins lightening the sky, confused for a moment about the arms wrapped around him and the solid weight of a head on his chest. Then last night comes rushing back to him in stunning clarity and he can feel his entire body tense, all of the breath leaving his lungs in a soft gasp. Bucky stirs beside him, tightening his grip, and Steve is simultaneously happy beyond words and terrified.

Of course, the fact that he’d gone to bed with a guy he’s been fantasizing about for years is cause for happiness, but it’s not just that. Sure, Bucky’s hot as hell, but Steve doesn’t just have the kind of silly crush reserved for celebrities and other unobtainables on Bucky anymore. It goes deeper than that now. Steve’s gotten to know Bucky and he likes him. _A lot._ Yes, Bucky is beautiful, but he’s also kind and talented, whip smart and makes some of the best food Steve’s ever tasted. He’s funny and resourceful and _brave._

And Steve is scared to death right now of how he feels about Bucky. Because, given time, Steve knows he could grow to love this man. But their situation is complicated and unusual and Steve has no idea how to reconcile these feelings he has for the man who’s hired him to improve his public image. When actors date people behind the scenes, it’s directors, writers, cinematographers. Actors don’t fall in love with their publicists. They just don’t.

The worries don’t disappear when Bucky wakes and begins kissing along Steve’s neck, mumbling a sleepy good morning against his skin, but the feeling of Bucky’s lips does quiet the worries just a little bit. Steve knows he should stop the brunet from pulling him into a deep kiss, should pull away when Bucky’s tongue slips past his lips and begins to explore his mouth, should tell Bucky they need to _talk about this_ as the other man begins to roll his hips forward into Steve’s.

These are all things he _should_ do, but Steve loses himself in the feeling of Bucky’s warm skin against his, in the sensation of the other man’s graceful body moving with him. For all Steve knows, this is all he’s getting, so he revels in it.

Because even if you put a pin in the fact that he shouldn’t be kissing his client, there’s _no way_ someone like Bucky wants boring, strait-laced Steve Rogers for keeps.

 

* * *

 

Bucky sits across from Steve, drinking his morning coffee and waiting for the blond to tell him that last night was great (and let’s not forget this morning’s impromptu makeout session that had ended with Steve’s warm, strong hand wrapped around both of their cocks), but nothing like that can happen again. Bucky’s ready for it, prepared for the onslaught of reasons why this is a bad idea. But it doesn’t come.

Steve is silent, barely even looking at Bucky, and the brunet’s chest tightens. He expected Steve to be all business about this, but this withdrawn Steve scares him a little bit. So, as terrified as he is to lay his cards  on the table, to tell Steve how he’s feeling, he’s the one who has to start the conversation.

“So, we should probably talk about what happened last night,” Bucky hedges, voice soft as he addresses Steve. The other man’s eyes snap to meet his, uncertainty swirling in those blue depths, and Bucky just wants to pull him close and tell him everything is fine.

“I think I know what you’re going to say,” Bucky continues, reminding himself that he needs to breathe. “You’re going to say that this is a bad idea. That it’s too complicated and that it’ll ruin our working relationship. And I get that.”

Bucky pauses, waiting to see if Steve will interject, but the blond just sits and stares, waiting.

“But I gotta level with you,” Bucky sighs. “I don’t really care. I don’t care that it’s a bad idea. I don’t care that it’s complicated. I don’t care about our working relationship. I care about you.”

Steve’s eyes widen, mouth forming a small ‘o’ of surprise, and Bucky presses on because if he doesn’t say it now he probably never will.

“I suck at making myself vulnerable, at opening up to people, Steve,” Bucky smiles. “Especially after Pierce. I’ve fucked plenty of people since, but I never let myself get attached. But I really, _really_ like you. And I know it’s silly to expect you to feel the same about a mess like me, but if you do, please tell me. Please don’t shut me out.”

“You,” Steve takes a deep breath, and Bucky allows hope to bloom in his chest at the smile on the other man’s face. “You like me?”

“Uh, duh, Steve,” Bucky grins. “I flirt with you, like, all the time against my better judgment. And against Nat’s advice.”

“I just,” Steve looks dazed, and Bucky’s glad the other man’s sitting down because he doubts Steve would be all that steady on his feet. “I just kind of assumed it was a one-time deal, you know? Like you just needed a release for all the tension.”

“Well, the release was certainly nice,” Bucky smirks as Steve blushes. “But I’d prefer it not be a one-time deal, as long as you want more too. And I know I’m going through a weird, emotional time right now, but it doesn’t matter. I’d like you even if my life was closer to normal. But all this bullshit has just shown me what an incredible man you are, and I just-” Bucky pauses, breathing deeply in an attempt to quell what feels like a butterfly rebellion in his stomach. “I really want to give this a shot.”

“It won’t be easy,” Steve replies, but he’s smiling again, and _god_ , Bucky wants to pull the blond across the table and into his lap and kiss him senseless. “Especially if the press gets ahold of it. And if the Pierce story gets out, it will make things even tougher.”

Bucky desperately wants to interject, wants to tell Steve that none of that really matters in the grand scheme of things, that scandals blow over eventually. Instead, he waits.

“But I like you too,”  Steve continues. “More than I should, and I want to give us an opportunity to make this work. But I want you to be aware of how hard it could  be for us. You have to decide if I’m worth that much trouble.”

“Steve,” Bucky chuckles. “I think maybe you have this backwards. You are worth _all_ of the trouble, ok? You’re the good guy with the stable career. I’m a recovering drug addict who’s been in the tabloids more-than regularly for the past five years. _You_ need to decide if _I’m_ worth it.”

“You are,” Steve says, and the matter-of-fact tone is what convinces Bucky that he actually means it. Steve only sounds that way when he’s a hundred percent certain about something, and it stuns Bucky that the other man has so much faith in him. It’s been a long time since anyone other than Nat has.

“Ok,” Bucky smiles. “Ok, we’ll take it a day at a time, see where it goes. We’ll, uh, have to tell Nat,” Bucky laughs at Steve’s grimace, nodding. “Yeah, I don’t relish that conversation either. But she’s my agent and she deserves to know. Besides, she’s been waiting five years to see me get involved with someone who isn’t a total jackass. So have I, actually.”

Bucky reaches forward; Steve meets him halfway, lacing the fingers of their hands together. Bucky smiles, tightening his grip and breathing a sigh of relief.  He lets himself feel a delirious kind of hope that he’s shied away from for years. It’s reckless, but for once it’s the right kind of reckless.

 

* * *

 

Steve glances over at Bucky every couple of minutes as he drives him to the set, a small smile playing at his lips. The fact that Bucky likes him, actually wants to give dating him a shot, is completely surreal. It’s like waking from a particularly good dream that you can’t quite remember only to find that the dream’s reality after all.

Bucky catches Steve’s eye as they pull up to a red light, threading his fingers through Steve’s and squeezing the hand which isn’t on the wheel gently. Steve feels his heart begin to race as he returns Bucky’s smile, and he hopes that feeling never goes away.

“You know,” Steve begins, a rueful smile on his face. “If, uh, this works out - you and me - you should probably fire me. Or I should quit.”

“Wait, what?!” Bucky exclaims. “Why?”

“Bucky, it’d be really weird to give the press quotes about your relationship when I’m potentially half of it,” Steve chuckles. “It’s just not done, you know? And it would be that much more bizarre if this _doesn’t_ work out. I’m not going to be able to do my job in the same way if my emotions get the best of me. Honestly, either way, we gotta get you somebody else.”

Bucky sits, a pensive look on his face as he digests what Steve’s just told him. After a few minutes he asks, “Well, who the hell could we even get who’s as good at this as you are?”

Steve grins, turning into the set’s parking lot. “I know a couple of people. Obviously it’s too soon to worry about it just yet, but it’s something to consider. And when you’re ready, we can make a few calls together.”

Bucky nods, tousling Steve’s hair affectionately and leaning over to give the blond a kiss goodbye. Steve pulls back just slightly, smiling.

“You sure you wanna kiss me where anyone could see and take a picture?” Steve half teases, but he’s still Bucky’s publicist and he wants to make sure the other man knows how easy it would be for a pap to snap a photo of the two of them.

“Let them,” Bucky smiles. “I don’t want to hide it. If people know, they know. I’ll tell Nat today, though. The last thing I need is her finding out through some gossip site or a tabloid that you and I are, uh, _involved_.”

Steve chuckles and let’s the brunet lay a gentle kiss on his lips.

“I’ll see you later,” Bucky opens the door and hops down onto the asphalt of the parking lot, and Steve can’t remember ever seeing the other man looking so happy and relaxed. His chest tightens a little when he realizes that he’s got a lot to do with the smile on Bucky’s face.

“Later, Buck,” Steve grins, waving at the other man. He watches Bucky stroll onto the set, and there’s definitely a spring in the other man’s step.

Yeah, Steve thinks to himself. He can definitely give up his job as Bucky’s publicist if it means he gets to make Bucky this happy every day. There are plenty of other celebrities whose image could use his expert help anyway.

 

* * *

 

Bucky texts Natasha as he walks to his trailer that she should swing by the set for lunch since he has something he’d like to talk to her about. She responds in the affirmative, asking for a hint, but he tells her it’s best they talk in person, but that it’s nothing bad. He knows she’ll still worry, but assuring her it’s not a crisis situation seems to set her at ease.

“Hey, Barnes,” Bucky hears the shout behind him as he reaches his trailer and sighs in resignation as he turns to see Brock striding toward him. _Great_.

“What’s up, Brock?” Bucky asks, trying to keep his expression as neutral as possible.

“That guy you were mackin’ on in the parking lot,” Brock sneers, and Bucky feels his body tense in preparation for a fight. “Isn’t he your _publicist_?”

“You know, Brock, it’s really none of your business who he was,” Bucky’s voice is firm, but calm, and he’s actually pretty proud of himself for keeping it together. “After all, it’s not like it matters to you who I’m sleeping with these days? Right? That’d be a strange thing for a married man to worry about, wouldn’t it?”

There’s a flash of anger in Brock’s eyes, but there’s hurt there too. Bucky’s sort of surprised; he was pretty sure Brock hated him and didn’t give a damn what he thought, but that’s clearly not the case. He feels something close to regret for lashing out at the other man, though by all accounts, Brock deserves it.

“Look, I,” Brock sighs, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “I didn’t come over to fight with you or anything. I only have a couple of minutes before I need to get into wardrobe and makeup and I just-” Brock trails off, looking uncertain and a little afraid. Bucky actually feels kind of sorry for him. Brock looks lost, and Bucky knows that feeling all too well.

“You just what?” Bucky asks, tone gentle but firm.

“I just wanted to apologize,” Brock exhales, and Bucky thinks he might faint with surprise. “For everything. I shouldn’t have come onto you in the club, especially when you were drunk. I shouldn’t have blamed you for my mistake, and I definitely shouldn’t have made work these last couple of weeks so miserable for you. I’m an asshole, and I’m sorry.”

Bucky stares at Brock, not bothering to mask the fact that he’s absolutely stunned. Bucky’s fairly certain he’s only heard Brock say the word ‘sorry’ about three times in the five years they’ve known each other, so it’s something of a shock to his system. He shakes his head in an effort to clear it, trying to figure out how best to respond.

“Apology accepted,” Bucky knows as soon as he says it that it’s the right thing to do and that he means it. “Look, Brock, you and I were never gonna be friends, no  matter how long we worked together. We’re too different. But I’m glad we’ll be parting as civil acquaintances instead of hating each other. Just, you know, maybe talk to somebody, all right? That much anger in one person isn’t healthy.”

“Don’t I know it,” the other man’s smile is rueful as he shrugs. “I’m working on it. And thanks for, uh, being cool about this. I don’t know if I would have been if I were you.”

Bucky grins, mirroring the other man’s shrug, “I have enough keeping me up at night, Brock. I don’t need a grudge with a colleague on top of everything else.”

Brock actually looks concerned, kind of like he wants to ask Bucky what’s wrong, how he can help. He seems to think better of it and just nods. “See ya on set?”

“See ya on set,” Bucky replies, smiling at the other man’s awkward wave as he heads off to get into wardrobe and makeup for the day.

Evidently, the universe has decided to take a break from hurling shit at Bucky for the time being. He can’t say he minds that.

 

* * *

 

“So, what’s this big news you just _had_ to talk to me about in person?” Natasha smirks as the two of them sit down at a table away from the cast and crew. “You eloping or something?”

“Well, no,” Bucky grins. “Not yet, anyway.”

Bucky can’t help chuckling as Natasha’s eyes narrow. Bucky will always be slightly scared of his agent and friend, but she is awfully fun to tease.

“You better start talking before I jump to some ridiculous conclusions, Barnes,” Natasha says. “Because as far as I know, you’ve only got your eye on one guy, and I know, I just _know_ he’s not as dumb as you are.”

“You may need to adjust your opinion, then,” Bucky smirks before biting into his sandwich. “Because, uh, Steve and I are kind of a thing now.”

“Bucky,” Natasha groans as she drops her head into her hands. “Did I or did I not tell you right after you met him not to even think about it?”

“You did,” Bucky smiles, a blush creeping up to his cheeks. “And I tried Nat, but come on. The guy’s basically perfect, and he just. He makes me happy. I really like him.”

Bucky shrugs, eyes downcast as he waits for Natasha to tear him a new one.

He’s not prepared for her hand on his, her green eyes soft and smiling when he looks up.

“Hey,” she smiles. “If he makes you happy, then he makes you happy. We’ll figure it out. I just hope you both know what you’re doing. Honestly, I knew as soon as you two saw each other that we were eventually going to have to hire another publicist. The way you two look at each other is just,” Natasha pauses for a moment. “Sickeningly cute is the phrase that comes immediately to mind.”

“So, you’re not mad at me?” Bucky asks, smiling sheepishly. “Even though I went and did exactly what you told me not to do.”

“Barnes,” Natasha smirks. “Dating your publicist is a dumb idea, but this is the first guy you’ve been into in ages who’s not a grade A douchebag. So, no, I’m not mad at you.”

“Oh, thank god,” Bucky breathes. “I hate it when you’re mad at me. You always send me dumb bro comedy scripts when you’re mad at me.”

Natasha throws back her head, a deep belly laugh shaking her petite frame.

“Well,” she chuckles once she’s gotten control of herself. “It always works, doesn’t it?”

Bucky just nods, feeling completely at peace for the first time in days. Yeah, the Pierce nonsense isn’t done with yet, but Steve likes him and Natasha’s cool with it. As he begins to tell Natasha about the wonder that was Brock’s apology this morning, he allows himself to muse on the fact that shit’s looking up for once.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you all liked it! I toyed with the idea of more Brock confrontations, but honestly, Pierce is going to be enough of an issue for these two in a bit, so. Bucky gets a break. Thank you to all of you for your patience and encouragement :)


	10. I Don't Want to Hide

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “So, what, we just wait for somebody to out us?” Steve’s raising his voice, moving forward. “Or what, we just keep it under wraps? Are you ashamed to be dating me? Is it embarrassing for you?”
> 
> “Jesus, _no_. I am trying to protect you, Steve,” Bucky grits out, fighting desperately to keep control of his emotions because Steve entertaining the thought that Bucky might be embarrassed to be with him is almost too much to bear. “If anybody knows how these tabloid people operate, how they pick you apart piece by piece until it feels like there’s nothing real left, it’s me. I don’t want you to get hurt.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! So, I'm sorry this update took so long; I was trying to figure out the order of events because there's a few ways a couple of things could happen. The updates should come more frequently now. Thanks so much for your patience and encouragement. Hope you all like it!

Once shooting finally wraps for _Defiant_ , Bucky’s genuinely excited to sleep in for a change, to wake up naturally beside to Steve.

So, it’s kind of a bummer when Steve shakes him awake at 6 a.m. on his first day off, blue eyes wide and worried.

“What?” Bucky groans. “What is it now? You already look like you’re in crisis mode. Can I just have, like, one normal day? Is that so much to ask?”

“I’m sorry,” Steve leans down to kiss him, brief and sweet, and that almost makes up for being ripped from sleep. “But _OK!_ and _Star_ are calling me for comments, and there are emails from the _National Enquirer_ and _People_ . An _LA Times_ reporter left a message on my office line. Apparently the whole Pierce story is about to break. They’re holding off on posting any stories until they have comments from your people and Pierce, but we don’t have a lot of time.”

It’s a struggle not to burst into tears, but Bucky manages it. “Shit,” he sighs. “All right. What do we do?”

“Well, first we’re going to call in reinforcements,” Steve smiles, but it’s hard and angry. “I don’t trust myself to craft a statement about the situation. I’m too emotionally involved now, and the last thing we need is me shooting off at the mouth about Pierce. Guess we’re gonna be talking to the publicist I have in mind to replace me sooner than expected.”

Bucky nods, rising from the bed and pulling on his boxers. “Make your calls. I’ll put the coffee on.”

 

* * *

 

Maria Hill is already halfway through her morning workout when her cell begins to ring. She stops the treadmill, pausing for a gulp of water before she answers the call.

“I’m in the middle of cardio, Rogers,” the brunet quips, smiling because Steve Rogers is maybe the only other publicist in the business who’s as good as she is. He’s also one of the few genuine people she’s met in her time in Los Angeles. “This better be good.”

“You still taking on new clients, Hill?” Steve replies, and she can hear the anxiety he’s trying to mask with his cheerful tone. “Because if you are, I’ve got one hell of a business opportunity for you.”

“Well, spill it, Steve,” Maria laughs as she towels sweat from her forehead and neck, wandering into the kitchen and sitting down at one of her tall counter stools. “The suspense is killing me.”

“James Barnes,” Steve answers. “What do you think?”

“I think he’s _your_ client, Rogers,” Maria can’t really mask her shock, and she can hear Steve attempt to stifle a chuckle at her apparent disbelief. “He that bad that you’re looking to dump him already?”

“No, no, no” Steve assures he quickly, but Maria’s still suspicious. It’s not unusual for publicist to recommend one another here and there, but this is the first time anyone’s calling her to take over representation of a current client. “He’s great, really great, but I can’t work for him anymore. It’s a long story, and I’ll tell you when you meet us at my place for breakfast at eight. It’s an emergency situation, Hill, and he pays _incredibly_ well.”

“I’ll see you at eight, Steve,” Maria replies, voice soft. “Is everything ok?”

“It will be,” Steve replies, and then the line goes dead.

 _Curious_ , Maria thinks to herself as she grabs a towel from her linen closet and steps into her bathroom. _Very curious._

 

* * *

 

It takes Bucky about ten minutes to decide that he likes Maria Hill. The brunet is tall and sharp as a tack, asking only relevant questions and listening patiently as Steve explains their situation. She raises an eyebrow slightly when Steve tells her that he and Bucky are involved now, but other than that, there’s no reaction, no judgment.

Natasha sits beside Bucky, her hand resting soft over his, listening carefully to the back-and-forth between the two publicists. Bucky knows she and Maria are acquaintances, and he’s never heard the redhead say a word against her. Natasha’s face is calm and placid, the way it only is when she trusts another professional, as she discusses drawing up a temporary contract for Maria while they begin the transition process. So, Bucky feels pretty good about the whole situation.

“Ok,” Maria begins, pacing Steve’s dining room as they start to work on their statement. “I don’t know how much you’re gonna like this, but my recommendation is to tell the press an abbreviated version of what you told me. They’re going to want to know why Pierce has these photos in the first place, so I think coming clean about the relationship is important.”

“I mean, I knew I was going to have to explain it at some point,” Bucky sighs, running a hand through his dark hair and shooting a grin Steve’s way as those worried blue eyes meet his. _It’s fine, Steve_ . _I’m fine._ “Might as well get it over with.”

“They’re also going to want to know why I’m calling them when they originally called Steve for a statement. They’re going to want to know what’s going on, and I’m going to have to tell them Steve is resigning. So I think it’d be best if you two go public, if you don’t want false rumors flying around” Maria continues, glancing at both Bucky and Steve in turn.

Bucky’s eyes dart to Steve to gauge his reaction, but the blond is cool and collected as he states that he has no problem going public about their relationship.

“Steve,” Bucky says. “Can I speak to you in the kitchen for a moment?” Steve shrugs and follows him.

“Steve, are you sure about this?” Bucky’s voice is low as he turns to face the blond. He leans back against the counter, eyes trained on Steve’s handsome face, waiting for a sign of hesitation. “Do you understand what this means for you?”

“Yeah, it means people will know we’re dating,” Steve’s smile is almost a smirk, and Bucky feels kind of frustrated with the blond for the first time since they’ve met. Because Bucky's had time to think since his blasé reaction in the car the other day when Steve pointed out anyone with a camera could document a kiss.

“Yeah, it does,” Bucky’s voice has a hard edge to it, and Steve actually backs up a step or two, eyes wide. “It means you’re going to be followed by paparazzi. Your existence is going to become fodder for the American public; your love life is now water cooler talk. You’ll still have to answer the press’s questions, but they’re going to be a hell of a lot more personal from now on. I’m not trying to talk you out of this; I just want to make sure that you understand what you’re getting yourself into.”

Steve regards Bucky solemnly, and it’s a strange feeling. It’s been a long time since Bucky met anybody who can see through him quite like Steve does.

“You didn’t have a problem kissing me when I dropped you off on set this week,”  Steve says. “How is this any different?”

“Well, for one, we were on a closed film set, so the chances of actually being photographed by a pap was next to zero,” Bucky huffs. “And you know they don’t always get clear pictures. We used that to our advantage not so long ago. We could have held them off, we wouldn’t have had to confirm anything until we were ready.”

“So, what, we just wait for somebody to out us?” Steve’s  raising his voice, moving forward. “Or what, we just keep it under wraps? Are you ashamed to be dating me? Is it embarrassing for you?”

“Jesus, _no_. I am trying to protect you, Steve,” Bucky grits out, fighting desperately to keep control of his emotions  because Steve entertaining the thought that Bucky might be embarrassed to be with him is almost too much to bear. “If anybody knows how these tabloid people operate, how they pick you apart piece by piece until it feels like there’s nothing real left, it’s me. I don’t want you to get hurt.”

Steve’s only a few inches from him now, arms bracketing Bucky’s sides, and it’s hard to think clearly with the blond so close.

“I don’t want to hide, Bucky,” Steve replies. “He made you hide a relationship, and look how that turned out. And I know,” Steve moves his arms to Bucky’s hips as he opens his mouth to interject. “I know this is different. But the secrecy just makes things harder in the long run. You’ve been through enough bullshit; you’ve kept enough secrets. I know it will change things for me; I’ve been in this business long enough to understand. It might scare the hell out of me. But if you’re with me on this, I’ll be fine. We’ll get through it together, ok?”

Bucky’s launching himself at Steve before he can stop himself, lips crashing against the blond’s, and Steve just wraps his arms around Bucky and holds tight.

“Sometimes I think you’re too good to be true, you know?” Bucky breathes against Steve’s lips, savoring the feeling of safety. “Like one day I’m gonna wake up and this will have been some kind of insane dream.”

“I’m here, Buck,” Steve whispers, and Bucky shivers as Steve’s breath ghosts against his  lips. “I’m not a dream, and I’m not going anywhere. I’ve got you, ok?”

“Ok,” Bucky replies, reveling in Steve’s warmth for another moment before they head back into the dining room to put together the statement and call a quick press conference.

 

* * *

 

 _People_ is the first to get the story published to their website. 

_Indecent Exposure: Star’s Former Publicist Attempts Extortion over Nude Photos_

_Alexander Pierce, the former publicist of actor James Barnes, 28, was arrested Monday, May 7 on charges of extortion. The 54-year old was apprehended by LAPD when he attempted to bribe his former employer with nude photos taken while they two were romantically involved._

_“Mr. Barnes was young and impressionable when he met Alexander Pierce,” Maria Hill, Barnes’ current publicist told reporters in a prepared statement during a brief press conference. “Pierce took advantage of his client’s youth and vulnerability, and abandoned Mr. Barnes when he was admitted to a rehab facility. After years without contact, Pierce re-entered Mr. Barnes’s life, demanding money. If said money was not delivered, he informed Mr. Barnes that he would sell the photos to the highest bidder.”_

_When asked about the absence of Steven Rogers, 30, a publicist who was an employee of Barnes’s for several weeks, Ms. Hill responded that Rogers has resigned as Barnes’s publicist._

_“Rogers and Barnes have grown very close over the last several weeks,” Hill stated. “They are dating and request that the press and public respect their privacy as their relationship is still very new.”_

_Hill and the LAPD declined to comment on the particulars of the investigation, as it is ongoing. Pierce and his lawyer also declined to comment for this story._

Every write-up is just about the same. The blogs that aren’t associated with major media companies are a little more creative and a little less scrupulous about keeping things professional, but Bucky’s used to that. There’s the odd comment about how gays are disgusting or about how Bucky should be ashamed of himself for posing  for the photos in the first place.

But Steve and Maria were right. Getting out ahead of this, being honest about the situation, has allowed them to control the narrative, and Bucky’s been inundated with support. Tweets. Instagram comments. Posts to his Facebook page. The vast majority are overwhelmingly encouraging and positive, and Bucky might not end up crying today after all.

It’s particularly funny when someone manages to unearth a photo of Steve from a few years back where he’s working out beside Tony Stark at an exclusive Hollywood health club. He’s shirtless in the picture, and most of the comments are along the lines of “Daaaamn, James, get it.” Steve can’t seem to stop blushing, but he’s laughing it off like the good sport he is.

Bucky’s not an idiot. He’s been a part of narratives like this before. You make one wrong move, and the public turns on you, starts rooting for you to spiral out of control. But Bucky’s got a hell of a support system this time around.

He’s going to get through this. And he’s going to come out stronger than ever whether Pierce likes it or not.

 

* * *

 

“I swear to god,” Sam laughs as he walks into the living room and drops his duffel bag to the floor later that evening. “I go to San Francisco to meet my niece for a couple of days, and when I come back,  you two are confirming your relationship to the press. Steve, you really weren’t kidding about needing a chaperone.”

Steve blushes, glaring at his friend as Bucky snickers beside him. “Is _that_ why I’m staying here instead of you staying with me at my place? You didn’t trust yourself?”

“No!” Steve exclaims, and he must be fucking crimson right now. “I mean, not really.”

Bucky quirks an eyebrow, smirking as Steve fidgets.

“All right, yes,” Steve throws his hands up in the air, exasperated. “Is that what you want to hear? That I needed a chaperone because I’m so into you that I was afraid of doing something stupid? That I couldn’t control myself around you for just a couple days?  That I-”

And then Bucky’s lips are on his and Steve just _melts._ He has a feeling that he’ll never be able to win an argument with the brunet; all Bucky has to do is kiss him and Steve’s a goner.

Bucky pulls back, a blinding smile on his face. “You really are the cutest fucking thing, you know that?”

“Tone it down lovebirds,” Sam chuckles. “I think I’m going to be sick.”

The rest of the evening is spent ignoring what’s on television and listening to Sam gush about his new niece. Samantha, he informs them as he shows them picture after picture of the tiny new life, is perfect.

Steve watches Bucky’s face, the way it softens as he smiles down at the photos. He thinks Bucky would be a good father; the kind who’s made mistakes and lived to tell the tale, the kind a kid can really talk to and know they’ll be accepted. It’s far too soon to even be entertaining ideas like this, but Steve hopes like hell he gets to see Bucky as a dad someday.

The way Bucky looks up at him a few minutes later, smile shy and gentle, makes Steve wonder if Bucky’s not thinking the same thing about him.

 

* * *

 

“I’m glad Sam went away,” Bucky whispers as he lies beside Steve, curled against the taller man. He nuzzles Steve’s neck, and Steve can’t help a breathless laugh at the feeling. “I’m glad you couldn’t keep your hands to yourself. I really am.”

“Me too,” Steve sighs, holding Bucky tight against his chest, kissing the top of his head and allowing himself to drift to sleep listening to the sound of Bucky’s slow, even breaths.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading and for all your support. You're all incredible :)


	11. I Owe You a Date, Rogers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I am going to _ruin_ you, Rogers,” Bucky’s voice is low and gravelly with want, and the shudder that rolls through Steve’s body has his heart trip-hammering in his chest. Steve’s eyes snap to meet his, dark with lust.
> 
> “That a promise, Barnes?” Steve whispers as Bucky’s Range Rover pulls up in front of them. Bucky leans in, letting his lips brush the corner of Steve’s mouth before he backs away. 
> 
> “It’s a fucking guarantee.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I couldn't sleep, and I figured instead of tossing and turning I'd work on an update. So, at least somebody's benefitting from my insomnia. Keep in mind that it's about quarter to two in the morning here as I post this, so I apologize for any dumb typos. Hope you guys like this one; I have a feeling you will :)

“You know,” Bucky grins as he and Steve sit at his kitchen table one morning a couple of days after the Pierce story breaks. “As far as the public is concerned, you and I are an official couple, and I haven’t even taken you out on a proper date yet.”

Steve looks up from his phone, a small smile on his face as he regards the brunet. The change in Bucky over the past couple of days is nothing short of dramatic. Gone is most of the tension he’d been carrying in his wiry frame; his long limbs settling into more relaxed positions with ease. The dark circles under his eyes are less noticeable; he’s sleeping through the night without tossing and turning.

Bucky’s worried about Pierce, about the impact of a possible trial if Pierce decides not to take whatever plea bargain the D.A. offers him. Steve knows this. But the fact that everything’s finally out in the open coupled with the outpouring of support from his fans seems to have lifted a weight from Bucky. The load he carries is more manageable now, and Steve will help him bear the weight he still carries.

“No,” Steve replies with a soft chuckle. “I guess you haven’t. Although, in fairness, I haven’t taken you out on a date either.”

“So, what do you think about dinner tonight?” Bucky smiles, reaching across the table for Steve’s hand. Steve meets him halfway, letting Bucky tangle their fingers together. “I know it’s short notice, so if you have a client obligation or something, I understand.”

“Tonight’s perfect, Buck,” Steve grins, squeezing Bucky’s hand gently. Bucky lights up, and Steve wonders if he’ll go blind because looking at Bucky when he smiles like this is a lot like looking directly into the sun.

Bucky lets go of Steve’s hand, rising from the table. The smile morphs into a smirk.

“Gotta take a shower before I head out to do this press day for _Defiant,_ ” Bucky’s voice is low, and honestly, it’s unfair for a human being to be so goddamn seductive. “You feel like joining me?”

“That a trick question, Barnes?” Steve quips with a grin as he stands, eyes roaming the toned planes of the brunet’s body. When he reaches Bucky’s eyes, the irises are silver rings swallowed up by the black of his pupils. Bucky strides forward, grabbing Steve’s hand and pulling him in the direction of his bedroom.

 

* * *

 

The sight of Steve flushed and soaking wet is a thing of beauty. His toned chest heaves with every breath as Bucky bobs up and down the other man’s cock, gazing up at him through dark lashes. Steve’s hands wind themselves through Bucky’s hair, tugging gently, guiding, and Bucky groans at the sensation.

“Jesus, Buck,” Steve moans, tightening his grip, hips thrusting forward as Bucky pulls back and sucks hard on the tip, savoring the salty taste of Steve’s precome. Bucky moves forward, swallowing Steve’s cock down, hollowing his cheeks as he urges the blond toward orgasm.

The whimpers and pleas and curses falling from Steve’s lips are the most beautiful sounds he’s ever heard. Bucky’s not a religious man but he offers up a prayer of thanks to whoever might be listening that he’s the one who gets Steve like this, blushing and begging and so beautiful it breaks Bucky’s heart.

And when Steve comes, crying out Bucky’s name, Bucky prays that he gets to keep him.

 

* * *

 

“Well, well, well,” Tony Stark stands up as Steve weaves his way to their table. “I was starting to think you’d forgotten about me, Rogers. Afraid you quit without telling me.”

“You know I’d never do that, Tony,” Steve laughs, embracing the older man before taking a seat. “I’ve just been swamped, but I think things are going to be calming down soon.”

“You mean because the client who was bogarting all your time is no longer your client,” Tony chuckles. “Honestly, now that he’s your boyfriend, I’m afraid I’ll see even less of you.”

“Well, then, it’s a good thing you don’t need me in the way you used to isn’t it?” Steve grins. “Nothing but glowing movie reviews and humanitarian projects. A far cry from the binges and busts of years past.”

Tony nods with a smile as a server comes and takes their drink orders - an iced tea for Tony and a water for Steve - dark eyes sparkling with mischief. He waits until their drinks are delivered and their lunch orders are placed, and speaks just as Steve’s taking his first sip of water.

“So, tell me,” Tony smirks. “James as good in bed as I’ve heard?”

Steve nearly chokes, spraying Tony with water, but the older man is laughing hard enough that Steve assumes he doesn’t care that he’s probably just ruined whatever designer shirt he’s wearing today.

“Keep it up, Stark, and I might quit,” Steve huffs once he’s managed to catch his breath. “Now, how about we talk about the press tour for your upcoming film and we’ll come back to my sex life never.”

 

* * *

 

Bucky likes the way Steve’s breath hitches when Bucky shows up at his door with a red rose, the way his eyes widen as he takes in the dark suit that’s strategically fitted to Bucky’s lithe frame to stunning effect.

Steve’s a vision in a lavender button-up and navy dress pants that hug his spectacular ass just right.

“Hey,” Bucky leans forward to plant a quick kiss on Steve’s lips, smiling as he steps back to admire him some more. “You look incredible, Steve.”

“So do you,” Steve breathes, pulling Bucky back in for another kiss. Bucky lets Steve deepen it, shivering as the blond’s tongue runs along his bottom lip. Steve pulls back, blue eyes glassy with want, and for a minute Bucky considers chucking the whole date idea and just riding this man until he can’t see straight.

“Come on,” Bucky chuckles, grabbing Steve’s hand and tugging him out the door. “I owe you a date, Rogers.”

 

* * *

 

Bucky drives them to a restaurant in Malibu. They sit on a deck overlooking the Pacific, surrounded by twinkling lights, the soft strains of an acoustic guitar accompanying their meal.

They talk about everything and nothing as they eat. They discuss their families over plums stuffed with goat cheese and wrapped in bacon. They talk about Steve’s time in college and Bucky’s experiences on the _Sudden Justice_ set as they tuck into braised short ribs and baked potatoes and roasted vegetables. Bucky tells Steve about his dreams of one day acting on a Broadway stage, dreams that have lain dormant for the better part of a decade, as he spoon feeds Steve a delicate crème brûlée. Steve shares his ambition of opening a consulting firm someday. Maybe even in New York.

Steve starts to protest that he’s too full, that he doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to move again, as Bucky guides him out onto the dance floor. Bucky’s having none of it as he pulls Steve close, and they sway to the soft rhythm, stealing quick kisses here and there and reveling in the simple pleasure of just being together.

 

* * *

 

“Do you want me to take you home?” Bucky asks as they wait for the valet to bring his car around even though he already knows the answer. Steve smiles and shakes his head, and Bucky feels like he might faint for a moment the heat in Steve’s blue eyes is so intense. Bucky leans over, letting his lips trail softly along Steve’s cheek, barely touching the skin as he whispers in Steve’s ear.

“I am going to _ruin_ you, Rogers,” Bucky’s voice is low and gravelly with want, and the shudder that rolls through Steve’s body has his heart trip-hammering in his chest. Steve’s eyes snap to meet his, dark with lust.

“That a promise, Barnes?” Steve whispers as Bucky’s Range Rover pulls up in front of them. Bucky leans in, letting his lips brush the corner of Steve’s mouth before he backs away.

“It’s a fucking guarantee.”

 

* * *

 

Bucky’s on him as soon as the elevator doors close. His mouth is gentle and insistent, and before Steve knows it, his shirt is untucked and unbuttoned. Bucky’s hands trail down his chest and Steve shivers as the brunet pulls him close.

The doors open and Bucky takes Steve’s hand, pulling him toward the door to his penthouse. Steve stumbles through the door behind him, gasping as Bucky backs him up against the solid wood, lips capturing Steve’s as it snaps closed. Steve is lost as he tangles his hands in Bucky’s dark hair, whimpering softly as Bucky’s fingers work the button of his pants open. Then he’s sliding Steve’s zipper down and his hand is teasing at the sensitive skin of Steve’s pelvis.

“What do you want, Steve?” Bucky asks as he pulls away, mouth an angry red slash, bruised from their kissing. His hair's a mess and his suit looks disheveled for the first time all evening and Steve doesn’t think he’s ever seen anything more beautiful in his entire life than Bucky in this moment.

“Steve,” Bucky prompts, and Steve lied because Bucky’s _smiling_ now, open and wide and warm, and Steve is so in love with this man that he might burst. It’s too soon to say because they haven’t known each other long enough, but that doesn’t make it any less true.

“You, Buck,” Steve’s voice is shaky and breathless. He should be embarrassed by how desperate he already is, by how badly he wants the man standing before him, but he can’t bring himself to care. “I want you.”

Bucky lays another kiss on Steve’s lips, this one brief, before tugging him back to his bedroom.

 

* * *

 

Bucky pulls a condom and a bottle of lube from the top drawer of his dresser once they’re in his bedroom. He pulls off his jacket, tossing it carelessly to the floor before he begins to unbutton his shirt.

“Wait,” Steve breathes as he moves into Bucky’s personal space and grabs his hands. “Can I?”

“God _yes_ ,” Bucky whispers, shivering as Steve begins to undo each button. The blond takes his time, seeming to revel in the skin he uncovers, and Bucky thinks he might burst into flame he’s so aroused. Steve slides the shirt off, hands resting on Bucky’s shoulders as he leans in for a kiss.

They remove the rest of their clothing quickly, crawling into bed and wrapping themselves up in one another. They take their time, teasing gasps and coaxing moans with tender kisses and lingering touches. Bucky can’t help but groan as Steve wraps a hand around his cock, stroking slowly.

“Bucky,” Steve breathes, resting his forehead against Bucky’s. “Will you - will you take me?”

“Yes,” Bucky sighs as he pulls Steve into a quick kiss. “If you’re sure.”

“I’m sure,” Steve replies as he lies back on the mattress and looks up at Bucky through his too-long lashes. “Please, Bucky.”

Bucky coats his fingers with lube, rejoicing in the moan that tears from Steve’s throat as he breaches the blond’s entrance, losing himself in the soft sounds of pleasure as he begins to open Steve up.

 

* * *

 

Steve’s had some incredible sex throughout his 30 years, but Bucky sliding into him with a soft sigh is more incredible than anything he’s ever experienced. It’s the height of ecstasy, filling Steve with a euphoria so intense he can barely breathe.

They move together in perfect tandem, breath mingling as Bucky leans down to kiss Steve, his slender fingers encircling Steve’s cock as they work each other toward climax.

“Bucky,” Steve moans as his back arches. He can feel Bucky’s measured thrusts growing less controlled, and Steve’s cock is pulsing and leaking precome as Bucky strokes it. “Bucky, I’m so close.”

“God, Steve,” Bucky groans as he picks up his pace, shivering as Steve clenches around him. “Almost there, honey. Wanna see you come so bad.”

“ _Buck_ ,” Steve’s voice is a broken sob as his hips begin to jerk erratically.

“So beautiful, Steve,” Bucky rasps. “God, so perfect. Come for me, sweetheart.”

And then Steve’s screaming soundlessly as his orgasm crashes into him, rolling like the waves of the Pacific through his trembling body.

 

* * *

 

Bucky slides out of Steve, pulling off the condom, tying it and tossing it in the wastebasket beside his bed. He stretches, smiling as Steve scoots over and curls up against him. Bucky runs his fingers through Steve’s honey-colored hair, savoring the feel of Steve’s breath against his neck.

“You are without a doubt,” Bucky sighs. “The most incredible man I have ever met.”

Steve’s eyes are soft and smiling as they meet Bucky’s. “I feel the same way about you, you know?”

“I know,” Bucky grins. “Just have a hard time believing it is all.”

“I guess I’ll just have to convince you it’s true,” Steve smiles as he wraps his arms around Bucky and kisses him deeply.

“I guess you will,” Bucky breathes as Steve pulls away, brushing back a stray lock of blond hair and wondering how soon is too soon to tell someone you’re in love with them.

Because he’s pretty fucking sure he’s in love with Steve Rogers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thank you all so much for reading, for leaving, for bookmarking this fic, for leaving really lovely comments and for being just the best readers anybody could ask for.


	12. What Do I Make You Feel?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Interested?” Bucky parrots, eyes widening. “In acting? In your film?”
> 
> “Yes,” Peggy replies. “In our film.”
> 
> “What do you think?” Sam finally pipes up, smirking at Steve as Bucky begins to stammer.
> 
> “I,” Bucky begins, inhaling deeply, and Steve is really having a hard time not bursting into giggles because this is the cutest thing he’s ever seen. “I don’t know what to say. I just. I’m-”
> 
> “English, I think you broke him,” Angie snickers, nudging her girlfriend who simply rolls her eyes and smiles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's about to get sappy, guys. Enjoy it now because I have a feeling the next chapter's gonna be on the tense side if it ends up being what I think it's going to be.

“Hey, Buck, can you grab the door?” Steve shouts from the kitchen. Bucky pulls himself from the couch, muttering under his breath about the fact that he doesn’t even _live here_ , but Steve’s in the middle of cooking dinner and Sam’s in the middle of working on something in his room, so he guesses he _is_ the logical choice.

Besides, if he’s being honest, Bucky’s practically been living here for weeks now.

His jaw actually drops when he opens the door because on the other side is none other than Peggy fucking Carter.

“Surprise,” the woman grins, holding out a platter of cheese and fruit. Bucky takes it, lips moving soundlessly as he tries to form some sort of coherent sentence. A young woman with lighter brown hair is standing beside Peggy, shaking with silent laughter, and Bucky recognizes her as Angie Martinelli.

Bucky steps back, motioning the women inside, then shuts the door and follows them back into the house. He reminds himself to breathe as he sets the plate down on the dining room table and turns to the women with a smile.

“Sorry, kind of starstruck for a minute there, I guess,” Bucky chuckles. “Bucky Barnes. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you Peggy, Angie.”

He shakes each of their hands, then excuses himself to fetch Steve from the kitchen. The blond is just setting a tray of roasted vegetables down on the counter as Bucky strides into the kitchen, grabs him by the collar of his shirt and backs him up against the counter.

“Hey, Bucky,” Steve’s smiling, but his voice is a little breathless, and Bucky _loves_ that he has this effect on the other man.

“I looked like an idiot when I opened the door, Rogers,” Bucky growls playfully, noting the way Steve’s eyes darken before he leans in and kisses him. Bucky grinds against Steve, running his hands up and down Steve’s sides as he licks his way into the blond’s mouth. Steve whines, and Bucky just grips him tighter.

“Thank you,” Bucky breathes against Steve’s lips when he pulls back. “I’ll let you finish up here. Holler if you need any help.”

“Yeah, sure,” Steve pants, blue eyes nearly black as he gazes at Bucky. Bucky leans forward and catches Steve’s lips once more in a quick kiss, then smiles and walks back into the dining room.

“He’ll be out in a minute, ladies,” Bucky grins, running a hand through his hair in an attempt to smooth it out a little. “In the meantime, can I get either of you a drink?”

 

* * *

 

“So,” Peggy grins at Steve before turning her eyes to Bucky. They’ve finished dinner at this point and Steve’s just giving everyone some time before he brings out the cheesecake he’d made for dessert. “I just want to say what a genuine pleasure it is to meet such a fan, Bucky. You know, Angie’s usually the one who gets that sort of adoration.”

“Which, of course, she deserves,” Bucky grins, and Steve has to bite back a laugh. Bucky in full charm mode is one hell of a sight, and Steve loves how relaxed and at ease his boyfriend is tonight.

“Of course,” Peggy smiles, then continues. “Sam actually mentioned that you’re between projects at the moment. He and I have been planning to collaborate on a film in the near future; it was just the matter of producing the right script and finding the right talent. The script’s nearly finished, and we’ve got some of our talent.” Peggy pauses to lean over and kiss Angie on the cheek. “We were wondering if you’d be interested.”

“Interested?” Bucky parrots, eyes widening. “In acting? In _your_ film?”

“Yes,” Peggy replies. “In our film.”

“What do you think?” Sam finally pipes up, smirking at Steve as Bucky begins to stammer.

“I,” Bucky begins, inhaling deeply, and Steve is really having a hard time not bursting into giggles because this is the cutest thing he’s ever seen. “I don’t know what to say. I just. I’m-”

“English, I think you broke him,” Angie snickers, nudging her girlfriend who simply rolls her eyes and smiles.

“Yes,” Bucky finally manages to reply, a wide smile gracing his handsome features. “God, yes. That sounds like an incredible opportunity. I’m definitely interested. I mean, obviously I’ll have to talk to Nat about it, but she knows I’ve always wanted to be in a Peggy Carter film. Shame she got stuck at the office with a couple other clients tonight, she’d have loved to have met both of you. We’re both big fans.”

“Well, we look forward to meeting her and working out the details,” Peggy chuckles.

“I want you to know,” Sam grins over at Bucky, voice teasing. “That just because we’re friends doesn’t mean I’m not gonna work you to the bone, Barnes. You might be a big name, but that doesn’t mean you get to skate.”

“I wouldn’t expect anything less from a director like you,” Bucky laughs. “Thank you, guys. Really, this is going to be great, I can feel it.”

Steve excuses himself to grab dessert, smiling at the group assembled at his table discussing the basic plot of this new film. His heart swells at the grin on Bucky’s face and his animated gestures and muses for the millionth time how lucky he is that Natasha called him when she decided Bucky needed a publicist.

 

* * *

 

“He seems like a real good guy,” Angie grins as Steve hands her a dish to dry. She’d volunteered to help in order to give Peggy an opportunity to get to know Bucky better (and, knowing Peggy, to quietly imply that she’d murder him if he ever hurt Steve). “With everything he’s been through - hell, _going through_ \- I expected him to be more reserved.”

“Yeah, I don’t know that Bucky really does reserved,” Steve chuckles. “I don’t think that’s his way.”

“Doesn’t seem to be,” Angie giggles. “I can see why you like him. You worried at all? About the press? How fast it’s moving?”

“I might be if I wasn’t already pretty sure I’m in love with him,” Steve replies distractedly as he attempts to scrub grease from the pan in which he’d roasted chicken. It must take him a minute to register what he’s said because then he’s looking down at Angie, those big blue eyes of his wide and panicked. “Shit, I-”

“Steve,” Angie interrupts, a soft smile on her face. “I won’t say a word. Not even to Peg, ok? You tell him when you’re ready. Your secret’s safe with me.”

“Thank you,” Steve breathes. “I just. I know it’s kind of crazy, but he just makes sense to me. Us together makes sense to me. Do you know what I mean?”

“You know I do,” Angie grins, bumping his hip with her own. “I’m glad, Steve. You know, I never really forgave myself for coming between you and Peggy.”

“You didn’t,” Steve smiles. “Not really. It wasn’t going to work out that way for us whether or not you’d come into the picture. And I’m glad you did.”

“Such a sap, Rogers,” Angie giggles. “Well, it’s good to see you really happy, Steve.”

“Thank you,” Steve grins. “It’s good to _feel_ really happy.”

 

* * *

 

Sam excuses himself from the living for a moment, and all of a sudden those dark brown eyes of Peggy’s are trained intently on Bucky. He figures that since Steve’s out of the room, this is probably the moment he gets the big speech about what a great guy Steve is and the warning that she’ll kill Bucky if he hurts Steve.

As if Bucky _could_.

“Steve looks happier than I’ve seen him in ages,” Peggy begins, her voice soft. Bucky’s a little surprised; he was expecting more intensity. “I suppose that has a lot to do with you.”

“I like to think I’m a contributing factor,” Bucky grins, and Peggy chuckles.

“I’m lucky we’re still friends,” Peggy continues. “Considering I think I broke his heart a bit. We both knew it wasn’t going to work, but that didn’t really make me falling in love with someone else any less difficult.”

Bucky’s not really sure what to say to that, so he just nods.

“He’s been on his own for a while now,” Peggy says. “I mean, he’s dated here and there, but not seriously. And I have to admit, I had my doubts when he told me about you.”

“Because of my past?” Bucky asks, although his tone implies it isn’t really a question.

“Partly that,” Peggy admits. “Steve has a tendency, though, to jump into things too quickly. He’s never been much good at keeping a lid on his feelings. I was worried that that’s what was happening, that he was just going to end up hurting himself. I’m not worried anymore.”

“No?” Bucky questions, a small smile playing at his lips.

“No,” Peggy grins. “The way you two are together is-” Peggy pauses, searching for the right words. “You’re so at ease with one another. And he’s not the only one who looks happy.”

“I am happy,” Bucky nods.

“Good,” Peggy replies, reaching out for Bucky’s hand and squeezing it gently. “Take care of him, yeah?”

“As best I can,” Bucky smiles. “Promise.”

 

* * *

 

Once Peggy and Angie have left and Sam’s turned in for the night, Bucky grabs Steve by the hand and drags him back to the bedroom. Steve’s already breathless by the time Bucky closes the door and then rounds on him, backing him up into a wall and kissing him fiercely.

“Thank you,” Bucky gasps between open-mouthed kisses. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

“For what?” Steve huffs out a laugh, groaning as Bucky palms his growing erection through his jeans. “All I did was invite them over for dinner.”

“Oh, right, like you had no idea they were going to ask me about the movie,” Bucky laughs against Steve’s neck as he trails kisses along the column of Steve’s throat. Steve shivers as Bucky’s breath caresses his heated skin.

“I mean, I may have had an inkling,” Steve gasps as Bucky slides his hands up Steve’s shirt, lifting his arms and letting Bucky remove it. “Sam might have mentioned something.”

“You incredible, Steve,” Bucky pulls off his own shirt and captures Steve’s lips in a quick kiss. Steve revels in the feeling of Bucky’s warm skin against his own, hands grasping Bucky’s hips tightly. “You just make me feel-” Bucky inhales, breath shaky, and Steve moves his hands to cup Bucky’s handsome face.

“What do I make you feel?” Steve smirks, and Bucky chuckles as he grips Steve tighter, eyes darkening at the memory of their first kiss. “Tell me.”

“Honestly?” Bucky’s biting his lip, and it’s a struggle not to surge forward and nibble at it, but Steve manages. “I think I-” Bucky’s eyes are wide and uncertain, and Steve rests his forehead against Bucky’s, thumbs tracing a soothing back-and-forth across his cheekbones.

“Tell me,” Steve whispers. “You can tell me anything, Buck.”

“I think I’m falling in love with you, Steve,” Bucky breathes, and Steve can’t stop himself from pulling Bucky tight against him and just holding him there for a moment. Bucky’s chest heaves against his, and his voice is soft at Steve’s ear. “Please say something.”

“I think I’m falling in love with you too,” Steve replies, and Bucky jolts back, stormy eyes swirling with so much emotion that Steve loses his breath.

“Do you mean it?” Bucky asks, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

“Yes,” Steve breathes, nuzzling his nose against Bucky’s, reveling in the warmth of the other man.

Bucky curls his fingers into Steve’s jeans and tugs him toward the bed, and then they’re losing themselves in one another, in the feel of smooth skin and the sound of soft moans and breathless gasps. Bucky’s body sings beneath Steve’s fingers, and the blond can’t get enough as they urge each other onward.

As Steve slides into Bucky, committing the way the brunet gasps and writhes below him to memory, he knows that this man is everything he’s ever wanted in another person. And as they lie spent and curled against each other, Steve knows he’ll never want anyone else. Not the way he wants Bucky.

“I love you,” Steve whispers as he kisses Bucky’s temple. For a moment, Steve thinks Bucky’s fallen asleep, but the the brunet’s arm is tightening around him, pulling him even closer.

“I love you too.”

Steve drifts to sleep with a smile on his face.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! And your patience and encouragement :)


	13. I Won't Let You Hurt Him

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Are you all right?” Bucky breathes, holding Steve at arms length and looking him over.
> 
> “Yeah,” Steve replies, pulling Bucky against him. “Are you?”
> 
> “I am if you are,” Bucky whispers, kissing Steve gently.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The first of two angsty chapters. But you know me. It'll turn out all right.

“I hope you’re ready to take a trip soon, Barnes,” Natasha’s voice floats over the line, and Bucky chuckles. “Because in three weeks time, you’ll be filming with Ina Garten in the Hamptons. I’ll email you the particulars as soon as I’m finished with a breakfast meeting I have today.”

“Whenever you get a chance, Nat,” Bucky grins. “The only particular I care about is that I get to help Ina prepare a meal. They didn’t have a problem with the whole Pierce thing?”

“Nah, nothing but sympathy for you,” Natasha assures him, and Bucky breathes a sigh of relief as he plops onto his couch. “Now you get back to relaxing. I mean it; I oughta strangle you for agreeing to a new project even if it is only tentative.”

“You’re not _really_ mad at me for that are you?” Bucky pouts even though Natasha can’t see him. She knows him well enough that she’ll pick up on the expression in his voice.

“Of course I’m not,” Natasha exhales. “But you really should take it easy, Buck. You’ve been dealing with a lot of stress lately, and I don’t want you to overdo it, ok?”

“Ok,” Bucky chuckles. “You have my promise that today I will be lying on my couch in sweatpants, eating nothing but junk food and catching up on bad reality TV.”

“Good,” Natasha replies, and Bucky knows she’s grinning. “I’ll call you later. Enjoy your lazy day.”

Bucky hangs up the phone with a contented sigh. The only way this day could be better is if Steve were spooned behind him, but of course Steve needs to work. He shoots the blond a quick text asking him how he’s doing and letting him know he’s looking forward to seeing him later. Then, he grabs the remote and dives into the most current season of _The Bachelorette._

 

* * *

 

Steve’s just leaving a coffee shop after a breakfast meeting when he gets Bucky’s text. He grins down at the screen, debating stopping by the brunet’s place before heading back to his office to make some calls when he feels a strong hand grip his arm.

“Mr. Rogers,” a cool, deep voice is beside his ear. “So good to see you again.”

Steve tenses, eyes darting to look at the man standing beside him. “Pierce. I think you should let go of me if you’d like to avoid a trip to the emergency room.”

“Oh, I think you’re the one who ought to tread carefully here.” There’s a cold smile on Pierce’s face, and Steve feels something solid nudge his side. He looks down to see a gun pressed against his suit jacket.

_Ok,_ Steve can’t get enough oxygen into his lungs, but manages not to panic outwardly. _Ok, just keep calm._

“What do you want?” Steve growls, hands clenching into fists.

“I want you to get into your car,” Pierce replies. “And drive. You know where.”

“I won’t let you hurt him,” Steve glares at the older man. Pierce just laughs.

“I don’t want to hurt anyone,” the cold blue eyes flash with anger and something that looks close to regret. “Now get in the fucking car so that I don’t have to.”

 

* * *

 

“Steve!” Bucky exclaims with a smile when he sees the blond standing outside his door. The grin disappears from his face almost immediately when he sees Pierce standing just behind his boyfriend.

“You can’t be here,” Bucky hisses. “I have a restraining order. I’ll call the police.”

“Yes, well,” Pierce’s tone is light as he pushes Steve forward, and Bucky’s knees nearly give when he sees a pistol against the small of Steve’s back. “I don’t think the police will be able to get here in time. Do you want to take that chance, James?”

“How did you even get into the building?” Bucky growls. “There’s a guard. He’d have called the police.”

“Well, I’ve been watching your building,” Pierce grins, pushing Steve forward. The blond’s eyes meet Bucky’s, wide and frightened, and Bucky can hardly breathe. “There’s a handy back entrance no one seems to keep an eye on. And of course, Steve here knows the access code to get up to the penthouse.”

“What do you want?” Bucky whispers, angry tears rolling down his cheeks. “Fuck, haven’t you done enough?”

“I don’t want their plea bargain,” Pierce replies, his calm demeanor only infuriating Bucky further. “And if you think I’m standing trial over those photos, you’re just as naive as you’ve always been. I’m leaving, but I need money. That’s where you come in, James. Do you still have that rainy day fund stored in your safe?”

Bucky curses himself silently for ever telling Pierce about the cash he keeps on hand in case of emergencies, but he nods. Anything to get Pierce out of this apartment and away from Steve.

“Don’t move,” Bucky says. “I’ll be right back. And if you hurt him, I’ll fucking kill you, Pierce.”

“Just get the money,” Pierce glares, that haughty gaze making Bucky’s blood boil. “And your precious Steve will be just fine.”

Bucky goes to his bedroom, pulling a painting from the wall and punching in the combination to his safe, then removing the three or four grand he’s stored there. He pulls out one of his Rolex watches for good measure. He hopes it’s enough.

Bucky strides back into the living room, dumping the cash and the watch on the table.

“I’m not sure exactly how much money’s there,” he sighs. “Couple thousand. That watch is worth a hell of a lot, so if you get desperate, you can sell it.”

Pierce pushes Steve forward toward Bucky, and Bucky wraps his arms tightly around the blond, finally relaxing a little.

“Are you all right?” Bucky breathes, holding Steve at arms length and looking him over.

“Yeah,” Steve replies, pulling Bucky against him. “Are you?”

“I am if you are,” Bucky whispers, kissing Steve gently.

“How sweet,” Pierce’s voice is like ice and his smile is cold and fragile. “You really do get off on dating your employees, don’t you James? Tell me, Steve, how does it feel to have my damaged sloppy seconds?”

Steve growls low in throat and lunges. Bucky tries to grab Steve, to pull him back, to tell him it’s not worth it. He tries, but it’s too late.

There’s a bang, and it’s not that loud because the gun’s not that big, but it’s _so loud_ , and Bucky’s ears are ringing as Steve crumples to the ground with a shout.

“Steve!” Bucky screams it, but his voice sounds far away as he rushes to the blond, dropping to his knees. There’s blood, there’s so much blood, and Bucky sobs at the sight of it. Steve’s hand is pressed to his left shoulder and when he moves, Bucky can see a dark stain spreading on Steve’s jacket.

“Hold on,” Bucky whispers fiercely. “Hold on, ok?”

When Bucky looks up, Pierce is gone and his front door is open. It doesn’t matter, he thinks as he fumbles for his phone, dialing 9-1-1 and explaining the situation as calmly as he can. He hangs up and sprints to the linen closet and back, several towels in hand.

“Steve,” Bucky’s voice catches on a sob as he stares down at his boyfriend. Steve’s eyes are glassy and his face is pale, but the blond somehow manages a small smile. “Here, let me put pressure on it, ok? You’re going to be all right. Help’s on the way.”

Steve nods, reaching up weakly to brush a stray strand of Bucky’s hair back away from his face.

“They make getting shot seem like less of a big deal in the movies,” Steve chuckles weakly, wincing. Bucky grabs his hand, squeezing gently. “It fuckin’ hurts.”

“Steve, I’m so sorry,” Bucky exhales. “This would never have happened to you if it weren’t for me.”

“Don’t start with that,” Steve replies, squeezing back. “Not now. This isn’t your fault.”

Bucky just nods, applying gentle pressure to the wound, listening as the sound of sirens comes closer and praying that Steve will be ok.

_He has to be ok._

 

* * *

 

“He’s going to be all right,” Natasha sits beside Bucky in one of the uncomfortable plastic chairs in the emergency waiting area. Bucky’s face is pale under the harsh glow of the fluorescents, and Natasha wishes she could do or say something to help. As it is, the best she can do is reassure Bucky that the doctors have said Steve will be all right and hold her friend’s hand until they’re allowed in to see him.

“That’s not the point,” Bucky sighs. “I mean, obviously I’m beyond thrilled it’s not as bad as it could have been. But, fuck, Nat, we got so lucky. He could have died. And if he wasn’t dating me, Pierce never would have come after him.”

“No,” Natasha replies. “But he would have come after someone. Probably me. He’s desperate and he knows you’ll do anything for the people you love, Buck. Don’t blame yourself because Pierce is a bastard who will take advantage of that.”

Bucky opens his mouth to continue protesting, but all of a sudden there’s a doctor striding toward them.

“Mr. Barnes,” the woman is fairly young and her hazel eyes are wide with sympathy. “I’m Dr. Maximoff. You’re the man who came in with Steven Rogers, correct?”

“Yes,” Bucky scrambles up from the chair. “How is he?”

“He’s in a lot of pain, but he’s stable,” she replies with a smile. “He’s asking to see you.”

Bucky nods, looking back at Natasha.

“Go,” she chuckles. “I’m fine here.”

Bucky smiles, tight and quick, then follows Dr. Maximoff down the hall.

 

* * *

 

“Hey,” Steve whispers, smiling up at Bucky as the brunet comes to stand beside his bed. “I missed you.”

Steve is dimly aware of the pain in his shoulder, but the drugs they gave him make him feel as though he’s floating above it.

“God, Steve,” Bucky’s voice is choked with emotion as he sits down in the chair beside Steve’s bed, grabbing his hand and kissing it. “I’m so glad you’re going to be ok.”

“Me too,” Steve giggles, and Bucky smiles down at him and he’s so _beautiful._ “Can’t leave my pretty boyfriend.”

“You’re high as a kite, Rogers,” Bucky chuckles, leaning in to kiss Steve’s cheek. “Get some sleep, honey. I’ll be right here, ok?”

“Ok,” Steve breathes, closing his eyes and drifting on the strength of his meds. “I love you, Buck.”

“Love you too, Steve,” Bucky whispers, tightening his grip on Steve’s hand. “So, so much.”

 

* * *

 

Bucky watches Steve for a long time, studying his handsome features as his breathing evens out.

They’re going to have to chat tomorrow, he and Steve. They’re going to need to have a very serious conversation. Neither of them is going to like it.

But Bucky needs Steve safe. And that means Steve needs to find someone less perpetually fucked up than Bucky.

Even if it does break the brunet’s heart to let him go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!


	14. You Can’t Dump a Guy Who Took a Bullet for You, Barnes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve turns his gaze to Bucky. The brunet’s steely eyes are welling up with tears as they trace Steve’s upper body, lingering on the bulge the bandages have created under his thin hospital gown. Steve hates seeing Bucky this way; he just wants to pull the other man close and tell him everything’s all right.
> 
> “Come here,” Steve whispers, holding out his right hand. Bucky grabs it and sits down beside Steve. “We need to talk.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Time for feeeeelings, but I think you're gonna like this chapter.

Bucky waits until Steve falls asleep before heading back to the waiting room to update Natasha. When he returns, Maria and Sam are sitting beside the redhead. They all look up at the sound of his sneakers on the linoleum floor, but Sam leaps to his feet first, striding quickly and grabbing Bucky by the shoulders.

“Nat says they’re saying he’s going to be all right,” Sam states, but his eyes are questioning, nearly desperate, and Bucky feels a fresh wave of guilt rolls through his body because it isn’t just Steve he’s hurting; it’s everyone close to the blond too.

“Yes,” Bucky replies, and Sam pulls him into a tight hug. Bucky’s surprised considering this whole mess is all his fault, but he hugs back anyway.

“Thank you,” Sam breathes. “Thank you for reacting so quickly and getting him here before it could get too bad.”

“Yeah, well, least I could do,” Bucky huffs out a laugh that sounds more like a sob. “Wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for me.”

“Hey,” Sam’s eyes are fierce as he pulls back, gripping Bucky’s arms. “Do not talk like that. This is on Pierce. Don’t you dare blame yourself, do you understand me?”

Bucky nods, but it must not be too convincing because Sam’s frown deepens.

“He’s really going to be ok?” Maria asks quietly as she walks up behind Sam.

“He is,” Bucky replies, running a hand through his hair, trying a tentative smile. “He’s in a lot of pain. Or he would be if he weren’t so doped up. But the wounds were clean, and he didn’t lose as much blood as he could have. It’ll be a while before he’ll have full use of that arm again, but he’ll be all right.”

“Thank god for that,” Maria sighs. “Bucky, I’m so sorry. Are you all right?”

“I’m ok,” Bucky says.

Natasha snorts, Sam’s eyes narrow and Maria smiles.  Of course, no one believes him.

“Really, I’m fine, I just," Bucky exhales. "I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to forgive myself for dragging him into this mess.”

“You didn’t drag him into anything, fool,” Sam smirks. “He dove headfirst into your mess, and gladly at that. He loves you, and if you think he’s going to let you back out now, you’re an idiot.”

Bucky barks out a laugh, shaking his head. “He’s too stubborn isn’t he?”

“He is,” Sam nods. “And you’re the idiot who loves him for it.”

 

* * *

 

When Steve wakes, he’s in an actual hospital room, and early evening light is streaming across him, painting the white bedding with splashes of orange, yellow and pink as the sun begins to set. Bucky is curled up in the chair beside him, chest rising and falling as he sleeps. Detective Fury is standing by the window, and Steve figures he probably has to give a statement.

“Nick,” Steve’s voice is raspy, and he can’t remember the last time he’s wanted a glass of water so badly. The older man turns, a rueful grin on his face.

“Can’t just stay out of trouble, can you, Rogers?” Fury chuckles, grabbing a glass and the pitcher of water on Steve’s bedside table. He pours Steve a glass, and the blond thanks god that Fury’s so observant because he’s so thirsty he doesn’t think he can talk until he hydrates a bit.

Steve grabs the glass Fury holds out to him with his right hand, drinking deeply. The water is blessedly cool against his tongue, and Steve gulps it down. Once his thirst is somewhat slaked, he remembers his wound. The pain in his shoulder is sharper now, but not nearly as bad as it was when it first happened. He figures he’ll need meds again soon, but he wants to talk to Fury first if the man’s here for his statement.

“You wanna know what happened, right?” Steve asks, handing the glass back to the detective.

“Not today, Rogers,” Fury smiles. “You’ve been through more than enough for one day, and we got plenty of information from Bucky for the time being. We’ve got APBs out on Pierce throughout California and several other states. I doubt he’ll get far. Your version of events will keep until tomorrow morning. I just wanted to make sure you’re really all right.”

Bucky stirs in the chair at the sound of Fury’s voice, gray eyes blinking owlishly as he wakes.

“Steve,” he breathes as he pushes himself out of the chair and moves to stand beside the blond. Bucky leans over Steve carefully, lips brushing against his in a gentle kiss. “How are you feeling?”

“I’ve been better,” Steve quips with a grin, and Bucky actually laughs. It’s good to see a real smile on his boyfriend’s face. “Probably need a pill again soon, but I wanna talk to you while I’m still lucid.”

“Well, I’ll be back tomorrow, Steve,” Fury says, nodding to each of the men. “Glad you’re still in one piece.”

“You and me both, Nick,” Steve grins, and then Fury’s out the door. Steve turns his gaze to Bucky. The brunet’s steely eyes are welling up with tears as they trace Steve’s upper body, lingering on the bulge the bandages have created under his thin hospital gown. Steve hates seeing Bucky this way; he just wants to pull the other man close and tell him everything’s all right.

“Come here,” Steve whispers, holding out his right hand. Bucky grabs it and sits down beside Steve. “We need to talk.”

“Yeah, we do,” Bucky replies. “I’m gonna go ahead and reiterate what I said when all the Pierce nonsense started when you were still just my publicist and my friend. I’ll understand if you wanna bail on me, Steve. Really. I’m a walking disaster and you deserve so much better.”

“Buck,” Steve’s voice is stern, and Bucky squeezes his hand tighter as he meets Steve’s eyes. “I’ll tell you now what I told you then. I’m not going anywhere. Not unless you don’t want me.”

“Of course I want you,” Bucky whispers, breath hitching on a quiet sob. “Steve, I love you. But I want you to be safe, and both working for and dating me have put you in some really dicey situations. He could have killed you today, Steve.”

“He could have killed either of us,” Steve replies, voice calm and low. “Buck, I love you. There is no better, honey; there's just you. I’m not leaving you, not if you still want to be with me. Besides, you can’t dump a guy who took a bullet for you, Barnes. It’s just rude.”

Steve smiles as Bucky chokes out a laugh, tears rolling down his cheeks. “You really are an idiot.”

“You love it,” Steve grins, and Bucky leans down to kiss him.

“I do,” Bucky replies as he pulls away, biting his lip. “Steve, are you sure? Pierce might come back. He’s desperate. Are you sure you want to take that risk?”

“Yes,” Steve’s tone is matter-of-fact as he tugs Bucky closer. “Now stop trying to be selfless or whatever it is you think you’re doing and kiss me.”

Bucky’s lips are against Steve’s a moment later, moving slow and soft. Steve cups Bucky’s face with his right hand, fingers tracing the soft, stubbly skin of his cheek.

Bucky is the best thing that’s ever happened to him whether he believes it or not, and Steve will be damned if a man like Pierce is going to tear them apart.

 

* * *

 

Bucky wakes early the next morning, eyes taking in Steve’s form as he slumbers on the hospital bed. The blond’s color is coming back, and his breathing is deep and even. Still, it hurts Bucky’s heart to see him like this, lying there torn up because of Bucky’s shitty past. There’s a part of Bucky that wants to keep arguing with Steve, that wants to convince Steve that he’ll be better off without him.

But Bucky knows it’s a fool’s errand. Steve’s made up his mind, and there’s no arguing with his stubborn boyfriend, not on this subject. Truth be told, Bucky’s relieved. Relieved and so grateful that even after all of this, Steve still wants him.

There are soft voices speaking just outside the door, and Bucky rises, stretching and cracking his neck. He shuffles toward the door, peeking around the corner. Sam’s outside talking with one of the nurses on the floor and he’s accompanied by a shorter, dark-haired man. The older man’s gaze meets Bucky’s and the brunet’s eyes widen when he recognizes him as Tony Stark.

“Hey, Sam,” Bucky walks toward them, waving and smiling. He nods as the nurse walks past him and into Steve’s room to check on him. “Mr. Stark, it’s a pleasure. I’d hoped we’d meet under better circumstances.”

“You and me both, kid,” Tony chuckles, shaking Bucky’s hand. “And it’s Tony. I hear Steve’s going to pull through just fine, so I’d say circumstances could certainly be worse.”

“That’s true, and he is,” Bucky nods, smiling. “He’s still asleep, but I’m sure he’ll be glad to see you when he wakes up.

The nurse’s head peers around the doorframe, her dark eyes smiling. “Mr. Barnes, he’s asking for you.”

Bucky nods, motioning the others to follow him.

“Up for a couple of visitors?” Bucky asks, leaning against the doorframe with a smile as Steve looks up at him. Sam barrels past Bucky without waiting for an answer, darting straight for his friend’s bed and plopping down beside him.

“Man, am I glad to see you,” Sam grins, grabbing Steve’s hand, and the blond chuckles.

“Glad to see you too, Sam,” Steve replies, glancing up as the other men walk into his room. “Hiya, Tony. Looks like I might need to take some time off.”

Tony barks out a laugh and shakes his head. “Such a slacker. Fine, I guess this is as good an excuse as any you’ve given me. Take all the time you need.”

Bucky can’t help but smile at the gathering around Steve’s bed. And it seems that Steve can’t help smiling up at _him_.

 _I love you,_ Bucky thinks with a grin. _You’re a stubborn fool for staying with me, but I love you so much for it._

 

* * *

 

Bucky leaves the hospital after Steve gives Fury his statement to take a shower, change and grab some things Steve needs from home. Steve’s grateful that the painkillers they’re giving him today aren’t quite as strong as whatever they’d pumped into him yesterday because he’s got some visitors today.

Peggy and Angie come by around lunchtime with flowers and balloons and a teddy bear, and Peg cries when she sees Steve lying in bed. He reassures her about a thousand times that he’s really going to be ok, and he’s got both of the women laughing before they leave with promises that they’ll come back tomorrow.

Natasha and Maria are with Steve when Bucky returns, a bag full of books, toiletries and clothes for when they release him in hand. Steve’s sure he’ll be here a few days more, but he’d rather be prepared.

“You hear anything from Fury yet?” Steve asks as Bucky leans up against the window, setting the bag down beside him.

“Nothin’ yet,” Bucky shrugs. “I mean, Pierce is good at disappearing. When he left the first time around all those years ago, the rehab center tried to find him for me, but he was like a ghost, you know?”

“I just hope he doesn’t come back this time,” Natasha’s lips are a thin line, and Steve appreciates the anger simmering below the surface on his behalf. “I might murder him if he does. I’m tired of him hurting my friends.”

“I hate to break it to you,” Bucky’s smirking, but his eyes are blazing as they flick over to Steve. “But if anybody’s got dibs on that motherfucker, it’s me.”

 

* * *

 

“Why don’t you go back to your place?” Steve whispers late that night as Bucky lies curled against him. It’s not the most comfortable position, but Steve had insisted, needing the brunet’s solid weight against him. “Get a good night’s sleep?”

“Not goin’ anywhere,” Bucky breathes against Steve’s neck, and the blond shivers. He tugs at Bucky’s hair gently until the other man’s face is tilted up toward him.

“You know,” Bucky leans up, kissing Steve quickly before nuzzling the blond’s neck, nipping at the exposed flesh. “I’m still worried. I’m still terrified of losing you.”

“Buck don’t,” Steve shudders as Bucky bites down gently on his right collarbone. “We already had this discussion.”

“We did,” Bucky’s hand is trailing down Steve’s body, working it’s way up his hospital gown once he reaches Steve’s thigh, and despite the pain in his shoulder and his exhaustion, that touch still sets Steve’s nerves on fire. “And I want to say I’m sorry. I’m sorry I ever thought that the answer was you and I being apart. You were right; if we want to be together we can’t let Pierce come between us. We do that, he wins. He finally beats me.”

“Bucky,” Steve whines as Bucky’s slim fingers circle his hardening cock. “ _God_ , honey _, please_.”

“I thought I was going to lose you,” Bucky breathes as he begins to stroke. “Steve, I couldn’t bear it if anything happened to you because of me. I promise, I won’t let him hurt you again. Never.”

“Bucky,” Steve whimpers, hips bucking gently up into Bucky’s hand as a few stray tears course down his cheeks. “I know. I know you won’t.”

“I love you,” Bucky whispers fiercely, claiming Steve’s lips in a bruising kiss as he strokes faster. Steve moans softly into his mouth, thrusting into Bucky’s hand, reveling in the warmth of the brunet beside him. Steve comes with a soft sigh and a shudder a few minutes later, spilling over Bucky’s hand and coating his own stomach.

“I love you too,” Steve gasps out as Bucky reaches for the box of tissues on Steve’s bedside table, cleaning him up quickly. “I love you so much, Bucky.”

 

* * *

 

Bucky curls back against Steve, tossing an arm over the blond’s stomach and listening as his breathing grows slow and deep. Bucky knows he’ll never entirely forgive himself, knows that he’ll always feel at least a lingering sense of guilt over Steve’s injury.

But all that really matters is that Steve is warm and safe and on the mend. Steve is here in Bucky’s arms, alive and well, and they are in love.  
  
And it’ll be a cold day in hell before Bucky ever lets Alexander Pierce take that love away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See, I can't keep them apart. They're too cute to be apart. 
> 
> As always, thank you for reading and for all of the encouragement. You all are stars.


	15. I'm Here

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s Natasha who picks up on what’s going on first. 
> 
> “You should go back to that therapist you were seeing right after you checked out of rehab,” she suggests, voice gentle but firm as the two of them sit in her office after discussing the script Peggy had sent their way a few days ago. “I think it would help if you talked to a professional. You’re dealing with too much right now.”
> 
> Bucky huffs out a shaky laugh. “Steve’s the one who gets fuckin’ shot and I’m the one falling apart at the seams.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so, so sorry for how long this update took, but life's been a bit nuts lately, and writer's block is a bitch. Hope you guys are up for a super sappy and emotional update :)

“Bucky,” Steve calls from the couch, laughing as the brunet pokes his head out the kitchen door, his brow furrowed. “Really, if I want or need something, I’ll get it myself. Now, come sit down and watch annoying couples with ridiculous expectations on _House Hunters_ with me.”

Steve chuckles as Bucky pouts and heads toward the couch, settling in next to Steve’s uninjured arm and curling into his side. Steve wraps his arm around the brunet, squeezing his shoulder and kissing his temple. “Not that I don’t appreciate the effort, hon.”

“Well, the doctor said you’re not supposed to strain yourself,” Bucky grumbles. “So, I’d really prefer if you’d just tell me if you need anything. You know, considering it’s my fault that you’re healing from a gunshot wound.”

Steve barks out a laugh, pulling Bucky into a quick kiss. “You’re ridiculous, you know that? How many times are we gonna have to have the ‘It’s not your fault’ conversation? Because it’s really not your fault, sweetheart”

“Just the same,” Bucky mumbles against Steve’s lips. “I would feel a lot better if you just let me take care of you, doll.”

“Yes, mom,” Steve giggles, kissing Bucky on the nose and smiling when a content sigh slips from Bucky’s lips as the brunet snuggles against him. “Now, what you think Allan and Carol will complain about first? The paint colors or the lack of space for entertaining?”

 

* * *

 

Bucky quietly thanks whatever it is that’s in charge of the universe that he’s not working right now. It’s been a while since the low level temptation to start using again has morphed into a genuine craving, but the stress he’s feeling right now has him wishing for the high cocaine provides, the energy and the focus. If he were working right now, he’s not sure he’d be able to resist.

Bucky sees the concern in Steve’s big blue eyes whenever the blond looks his way. He knows he looks tired, the dark circles betraying the fact that he’s not sleeping right (or sometimes at all). He also knows he’s jittery and that he’s been a little snappish and aloof for the past week or so. He briefly considers tracking down some adderall so he doesn’t feel so fuckin’ tired all the time, so that he can focus a little better, but he knows it won’t be enough, knows it’ll just make the urge for what he really wants that much stronger.

It’s Natasha who picks up on what’s going on first.

“You should go back to that therapist you were seeing right after you checked out of rehab,” she suggests, voice gentle but firm as the two of them sit in her office after discussing the script Peggy had sent their way a few days ago. “I think it would help if you talked to a professional. You’re dealing with too much right now.”

Bucky huffs out a shaky laugh. “Steve’s the one who gets fuckin’ shot and I’m the one falling apart at the seams.”

“Stop it,” Natasha stands, striding over and putting a hand on Bucky’s shoulder. “I have no doubt Steve’s having a hard time with all this too. But he doesn’t have your history with Pierce or with substance abuse, and he’s not the one Pierce tried to extort with personal photos. You are not weak, Bucky. You are tired and strained and the fact that you haven’t started using again with all the shit that’s going on is a small miracle. But it’s ok to need help.”

Bucky does his best to choke down the sob bubbling up from his chest, but it’s no use. He can feel the tears begin to course down his cheeks and brushes them away, knuckles harsh against his cheeks.

“Ok,” Bucky hiccups. “I’ll give him a call. God, I hate this. I just want it to be over.”

“I know, Buck,” Nat pulls him up, hugging him tight. “I do too. But you’re gonna be all right; you’re a fighter. You’re a survivor.”

Bucky’s laugh is watery and his smile is weak, but Nat grins at him when he nods.

 

* * *

 

“You’ve been crying,” Steve whispers when Bucky comes back to his place after a meeting with Nat. “You wanna talk about it?”

“Later,” Bucky whispers as he pulls Steve into a kiss. “Right now, I just want you to take me back to your bedroom and let me ravish you.”

Steve nods, grabbing Bucky’s hand and pulling him toward his bedroom. Sam’s out shooting a short film, so they’ve got the place to themselves for at least a couple of hours, and Steve will do whatever it takes to give Bucky some peace right now.

Bucky undresses Steve slowly, then pushes him back onto the bed with gentle hands and begins mapping the terrain of Steve’s torso with soft lips. Steve sighs, hips bucking upward as Bucky takes a nipple into his mouth, his tongue circling the sensitive flesh with agonizing slowness.

“Buck,” Steve breathes. “Honey, _please_.”

“I’ve got you, Steve,” Bucky whispers, lips trailing down Steve’s stomach. Bucky looks at him through those long lashes of his, eyes dark with lust, and then he’s swallowing Steve down. Steve moans at the feeling of Bucky’s skilled tongue caressing his cock, can’t help it when he begins to thrust up into the brunet’s mouth.

Bucky moans around him, and Steve shivers at the vibrations. The blond whimpers when Bucky pulls back a few moments later, his cock dripping pre-come. Bucky peels off his clothes, and Steve’s breath catches in his throat when the man is bare. He doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to someone as beautiful as Bucky in his bed.

The brunet grabs the bottle of lubricant from the bedside table, coating his fingers liberally. Steve’s more than a little surprised as Bucky begins opening himself up, groaning at the sensation. Steve’s cock twitches at the sound.

“What are you doing?” Steve asks, voice hoarse and fucked out as he watches Bucky, and the brunet’s eyes darken further at the sound.

“Ravishing you,” Bucky smirks. “But in the safest way possible considering your injury.”

Steve laughs breathlessly as Bucky straddles him, lining himself up with Steve’s hardened length. The laugh dies in his throat as Bucky begins sliding down, taking Steve’s cock inch by inch. Bucky places his hands on Steve’s chest to steady himself, careful not to disturb the bandages at Steve’s shoulder.

Steve gasps out a moan as Bucky lifts himself and then slides back down, setting a leisurely pace as he rides Steve. Steve can only grip the brunet’s slim hips and meet him thrust for thrust as Bucky shudders above him. The slow drag of Bucky’s muscles against him is torture, and Steve groans as Bucky clenches around him.

“Touch me,” Bucky groans, rolling his hips and Steve complies immediately, wrapping strong fingers around Bucky’s cock and stroking. Their pace increases gradually as they drive each other closer to climax with every movement, bodies moving in perfect sync.

Steve comes first, spilling into Bucky with a cry, hips stuttering through his orgasm. Bucky follows a moment later, his release dripping from Steve’s hand onto his stomach. Bucky gasps, pulls himself up and off Steve and heads into the bathroom. He returns with a damp washcloth, wiping his seed from Steve’s stomach before cleaning himself up and crawling back into bed. Steve rolls onto his side and wraps an arm around Bucky’s waist, nuzzling the brunet’s neck and letting himself drift into a doze as he listens to his boyfriend’s breathing slow and even out.

 

* * *

 

Bucky’s carding a gentle hand through Steve’s short hair when the blond wakes, blinking up at Bucky with a wide smile on his face. Bucky’s heart races at the sight; he doesn’t think he’ll ever get over how absolutely stunning this man is.

“Hey, gorgeous,” Steve whispers as he leans up to kiss Bucky. “You feelin’ better?”

“A bit, yeah,” Bucky grins, tightening his grip on the blond. “I’m, uh, sorry if I’ve been a little distant lately. I was afraid to bring anything up while you’re trying to recover.”

“You can talk to me, Buck,” Steve whispers, running a gentle hand along his cheek. “You’ve been so good through all of this, and I don’t want you dealing with the stress alone.”

Bucky sighs, kissing Steve’s forehead. “I’ve been having trouble sleeping, so I’m kind of exhausted most of the time. I’ve been worrying about you. Worrying about what could happen if Pierce decides to come back. For the first time in a while, I really want to use again, just so that I have the energy to deal with all of the stress. That scares the shit out of me, Steve.”

“You should have told me,” Steve breathes, hugging Bucky close. “Oh, honey, you should have told me.”

“I know,” Bucky sighs, voice shaky. “I know I should have, but I didn’t want you to have to deal with your boyfriend’s addiction issues on top of a gunshot wound. And I thought-”

Bucky shakes his head, and Steve looks up at him, grabbing Bucky’s chin. “You thought what?”

“I was afraid you’d think I was weak,” Bucky whispers, a tear sliding down his cheek. Steve leans forward and kisses it away.

“You’re not weak, sweetheart,” Steve’s voice is firm, and Bucky can’t believe how much love is swirling in Steve’s beautiful eyes as he looks at Bucky. “You’re strong. But just because you’re strong doesn’t mean you have to deal with this on your own. I’m here.”

Bucky nods, kissing Steve gently. “I know you are. And I’m gonna call the therapist I saw for a while after rehab. See if I can schedule a few appointments with him, get my head straight.”

“I think that’s a wonderful idea,” Steve runs gentle fingers through Bucky’s hair, and Bucky hums as he leans into the touch. “And you tell me if you need anything from me, ok? I want to be there for you just like you’re being there for me.”

“Ok,” Bucky whispers, cupping Steve’s face in his hands and kissing him soundly, tongue pushing past Steve’s lips. He pours every ounce of love he has for the blond into the kiss, and soon they’re moving together again, teasing each other with heated kisses and soft, lingering touches.

“I love you,” Bucky whispers against Steve’s lips. “God, I love you so much. I don’t know what I’d do without you here.”

“You don’t have to know,” Steve breathes as he rolls his hips forward into Bucky’s, and the brunet’s breath catches in his throat. “Because I’m right here, Buck. And I love you too.”

 

* * *

 

“Hey, man,” Bucky starts at the sound of Sam’s voice as he stands in the dimly lit kitchen. “How you doin’?”

Bucky turns from the sink, a glass of water in his hand. The other man is leaning against the doorframe, dark eyes regarding Bucky with a sympathy he’s still not sure he deserves.

“I’ve been better, but I’m gettin’ there,” Bucky grins.

Sam huffs out a laugh, walking to the table and motioning for Bucky to join him. Bucky sits down, waiting since it’s clear Sam has something to say to him.

“I had an uncle with a drug problem when I was a kid,” Sam begins.

Bucky’s eyes widen at that, because he was sort of expecting something more along the lines of a rebuke for getting his friend mixed up in all this bullshit, but he keeps quiet as Sam continues.

“He got clean when I was thirteen or fourteen,” Sam says, a soft smile on his face. “Still is clean. But I can remember how he looked when he was thinkin’ about usin’ again. You got that look.”

“I know,” Bucky replies, voice soft, as he looks down at his hands cupped around the glass. “I know I do. I’m taking care of it. I’m not going to let it get the best of me. I won’t do that to Steve. I won’t do it to Nat. I won’t hurt the people who care about me.”

“Good,” Sam’s voice is a little shaky, and when Bucky looks up he’s surprised to see tears welling in the other man’s eyes. “Because that includes me now, you know. I don’t want to see Steve get hurt, obviously. But you’re a good guy, Buck, and I don’t want you to hurt yourself. I’m here if you need anything.”

“Sam I-” Bucky whispers, trying to collect himself. He manages a grin. “Thank you. I’m lucky to have a friend like you. And I won’t let you down. We have a movie to make, you and I.”

Sam chuckles, rising from the table and clapping Bucky on the shoulder. “Go get some sleep, man. You look like hell.”

Bucky barks out a laugh, nodding. “Thanks, Sam.”

Bucky sits at the table for a moment longer, listening to Sam’s bare feet padding back to his bedroom and wondering how on earth he’s managed to build such an incredible support system. He drains his glass in a few gulps, then rises and heads back to bed, wrapping himself around Steve and drifting into a deep, peaceful sleep for the first time in a week.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thank you for your patience, your encouragement and for reading. You're all wonderful :)


	16. There's A Lot of Love in You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Tell you what,” Steve grins as he pulls away from the kiss. “Let me talk to my clients and see if they could do without my physical presence for a few days.”
> 
> Bucky’s eyes light up, and he smiles as he wraps his arms around Steve’s waist. “Really? Steve, that’d be great! God, it could be like a tiny vacation for us. A nice little Hamptons getaway. I’ll spoil you rotten, dollface.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry again for the delay! Didn't want to post this chapter until I got it right, and there were a few bits giving me a little trouble. I like the way this update turned out, though, and I hope you do too!

“I should try to postpone Ina.”

The matter-of-fact statement has Steve choking on his morning coffee as his eyes snap up to the brunet sitting across the table from him.

“You’re kidding, right?” Steve asks, his hand reaching out to grab Bucky’s. “Buck, you’ve been looking forward to this for ages. Besides, you’re supposed to fly out there in a couple of days. Who would they get to fill in for you?”

“Steve, I can’t just leave now,” Bucky sighs, running a hand through his dark hair. “There’s too much going on, and I don’t want to leave you alone.”

“I’m not alone,” Steve smiles, squeezing Bucky’s hand in an attempt to reassure him. “I’ve got Sam here. Peggy and Angie. I’ll be just fine, I promise.”

Bucky frowns, brow furrowing as he studies Steve. “I don’t like the idea of leaving you while he’s still out there.”

Steve huffs out a laugh, standing and walking around the table to sit in Bucky’s lap, cupping the other man’s face in his hands.

“You’re sweet to worry like that,” Steve grins, then kisses Bucky gently. “But really, Buck, I’ll be all right. It’d be foolish for Pierce to come back now.”

“Just the same,” Bucky buries his face in the crook of Steve’s neck, and Steve smiles at the feel of the other man’s lips against his skin. “Pierce is desperate, so I wouldn’t rule anything out just because it’s foolish. He’s ruthless, Steve. Crafty too. They were traits I used to admire when he was gettin’ me work. Now they just scare the hell out of me, especially since he’s already hurt you once.”

“Bucky, you should go,” Steve murmurs, placing a gentle kiss to the top of his boyfriend’s head as he rubs soothing circles against Bucky’s back. “You deserve this. You deserve something good. You can’t let him take the good stuff away from you.”

“You’re more important,” Bucky pulls back, stormy eyes shining with determination. “You’re the best thing, and I’d rather him take Ina away from me than you, Steve.”

Bucky kisses him deeply and Steve sighs, tangling his fingers in Bucky’s soft brown hair. Steve knows he’s not going to win this argument; he’s more stubborn than Bucky overall, but he knows the brunet isn’t going to budge on this no matter what Steve says.

“Tell you what,” Steve grins as he pulls away from the kiss. “Let me talk to my clients and see if they could do without my physical presence for a few days.”

Bucky’s eyes light up, and he smiles as he wraps his arms around Steve’s waist. “Really? Steve, that’d be great! God, it could be like a tiny vacation for us. A nice little Hamptons getaway. I’ll spoil you rotten, dollface.”

“You better,” Steve giggles as Bucky leans forward to capture his lips again.

 

* * *

 

 “I forgot what a mother hen you can be, Barnes,” Natasha smirks at him as the two of them sit down for a brief dinner meeting. “Really, Steve’s a grown man, I’m sure he’d be fine here.”

“I’m not takin’ any chances, Nat,” Bucky replies with a smile as he begins cutting into a steak. “That’s why you’re comin’ too.”

“Buck, you don’t need me there, everything’s already set up,” Natasha rolls her eyes as she spears a piece of asparagus. “Besides, I have client meetings this week.”

“I guess it’s a good thing that I talked to your assistant and rescheduled them, then,” Bucky grins, and Natasha’s torn between wanting to smack him upside the head and giving him a big hug. “And booked your flight and your hotel room. And a spa package.”

“Barnes,” Natasha groans, but it’s hard not to smile when Bucky looks so damn pleased with himself. “You’re not my only damn client.”

“I know that,” Bucky’s smile is softer, less certain as he looks up at her. “I know, but Nat, he knows you and I are close too. If something happened to you while I was away, I don’t think I could live with myself.”

The redhead studies Bucky silently, lips pursed and eyes narrowed, but sighs in defeat. If this is what it takes to keep one of her best friends from coming apart at the seams (and it’s a close thing as it is), then she’ll do it.

“I guess I could use a little break,” Natasha grumbles, shoveling some squash into her mouth to keep from smiling at the way Bucky lights up like a damn Christmas tree. “I mean, with clients like you, how often do I get to relax, right?”

“That’s the spirit, Romanov,” Bucky chuckles, and Natasha’s glad to see his limbs begin to loosen up now that he knows he can keep an eye on her.

 

* * *

 

Steve and Natasha exit their cab late Saturday afternoon and head into the spacious Hamptons house where filming should be ending soon. They’d all met Ina briefly yesterday and the three of them had been invited out to dinner with her and her husband Jeffrey, as well as some of the executive producers of the show once the episode’s completed.

Steve follows Natasha into the kitchen area, careful to be quiet since the cameras are still rolling. Bucky and Ina are chatting and laughing like old friends as they prepare party hors d’oeuvres and cocktails. Bucky’s sipping at a drink, but his glass is still mostly full. Steve smiles, proud that Bucky’s being responsible despite the fact that he’s probably beyond nervous and excited in this situation.

“He really is a natural,” Natasha sighs as the director of the episode yells “Cut!” and a flurry of activity surrounds Bucky and Ina. “I’d be a bumbling mess if I knew I had to cook on camera.”

“You and me both,” Steve chuckles, smiling and waving when he catches Bucky’s eye. The brunet beams, excusing himself for a moment to greet Steve and Natasha. Bucky leans down to kiss Nat’s cheek quickly, then kisses Steve full on the lips, lingering for a moment.

“All right, Casanova, save it for your hotel room,” Natasha drawls, but Steve can see she’s struggling not to laugh at the two of them.

“Sorry, sorry,” Bucky chuckles, running a hand through his hair. “Just excited about all this.” Bucky gestures around at the cameras and Ina, his eyes and his smile suggesting that he still can’t quite believe this is happening. “I oughta get back, though. We’re nearly finished.”

Steve leans in to kiss Bucky’s cheek, grinning as he pulls back. “Better get back, then. Wouldn’t do to keep Queen Ina waiting.”

“How right you are,” Bucky replies, bounding back toward the kitchen.

“God, it’s good to see him smile like that,” Natasha grins over at Steve, her cool demeanor gone for the moment. Steve nods, giggling as he watches Bucky bouncing on the balls of his feet while he waits for shooting to resume.

“Yeah,” he sighs. “Yeah, it is.”

 

* * *

 

“You know,” Ina grins as she glances over toward Steve and Natasha. “Food’s not the only thing you’ve got good taste in, James.”

Bucky laughs as he looks down at the smaller woman. “You mean Steve? Yeah, I’m still not quite sure what he sees in me. I got lucky there.”

“Don’t sell yourself short,” Ina smiles, reaching out to squeeze Bucky’s hand gently. “You’re a good soul. So, you’ve had some trouble? Who hasn’t? There’s a lot of love in you, James, and that’s the thing that matters most.”

“Thank you,” Bucky replies around the lump forming in his throat, swallowing to keep from tearing up.

“Now, let’s get back to this food, so that we can all go and enjoy a lovely meal,” Ina says as she takes her place at the kitchen counter. Bucky just grins, nodding as he moves to stand beside her.

 

* * *

 

Bucky’s giggling as he pours himself and Steve another glass of champagne. Steve smiles at the brunet as they sit side by side on the couch in their hotel room after dinner. Natasha had joined them for one glass, but had begged off hanging around since she needed to respond to some emails and make some calls.

“That was,” Bucky breathes as he leans back and looks over at Steve. “That was probably one of the best things I’ve ever done. She was _so nice_.”

“She was,” Steve agrees laughing at the dreamy expression on Bucky’s face. “I guess Jeffrey better watch his back, huh?”

Bucky pitches forward laughing, and if Steve didn’t know better he’d assume the brunet was drunk. But Bucky’s only on his second glass of bubbly, having stuck with tonic water throughout dinner. He’s just giddy, and Steve is thrilled that after everything he’s been through lately, Bucky’s _finally_ getting a chance to enjoy himself for a change.

“You’re funny, Rogers,” Bucky chuckles. “Nah, Jeffrey doesn’t need to worry about me. I’ve got my eye on somebody else.”

“Is that right?” Steve’s grin is sly as he snatches Bucky’s glass and places it on the table in front of them along with his own. “And who might that be?”

“Mmmm,” Bucky hums as Steve snuggles closer, running gentle fingers through his hair. “He’s in publicity. Tall and blond, built like a brick house. Real All-American lookin’ kinda guy, ya know? God, and the bluest eyes you’ve ever seen.”

“Yeah?” Steve breathes as he leans forward, nuzzling against Bucky’s nose.

“Yeah,” Bucky sighs. “And he’s more than just a pretty face. He’s kind and supportive and I don’t deserve’m.”

“Yeah you do, Buck,” Steve breathes against Bucky’s lips, loving the way the brunet shivers. “And I’ll spend every day of the rest of my life proving it to you if I have to.”

“Well then,” Bucky smiles, and Steve can feel the other man’s mouth curling against his own. “Guess you’ll have to stick around quite a while, sweetheart.”

Bucky captures Steve’s lips in a slow, sweet kiss, and Steve’s head spins.

It’s got nothing to do with the champagne.

 

* * *

 

Bucky pulls Steve up off the couch with him, tugging him toward the bed. They undress each other slowly, taking their time to tease each other once they’ve fallen onto the mattress together. Bucky gasps softly as Steve rolls, pinning him beneath that glorious body of his.

“You better-” Bucky moans as Steve kisses his way down Bucky’s body, his mouth and tongue leaving a trail of fire in their wake. “You better be careful. Just because they removed the stitches doesn’t mean it’s completely healed, Rogers.”

“Will you just shut up and let me make love to you?” Steve laughs breathlessly as he nips at Bucky’s hipbone. “Let me show you that you’d be worth takin’ a hundred bullets for?”

“Fuckin’ sap,” Bucky groans as Steve dips and begins peppering kisses along Bucky's inner thighs. “I hate to break it to you, but I already have dibs on the tragic romantic figure role in the relationship.”

“Get over yourself,” Steve chuckles, crawling back up Bucky’s body and kissing him soundly. Bucky laughs as the blond pulls away, cupping his face and pulling him close.

“I love you, you know?” Bucky breathes as Steve’s rests his forehead against his own. “I love you so much.”

“I know,” Steve sighs, running his hands up Bucky’s sides. “I love you too.”

Bucky’s still not sure exactly how he’d managed to land a man as incredible as Steven Grant Rogers, but as the blond slides into him slow and gentle, he resolves to remember that a man like Steve wouldn’t be in love with him unless he was a pretty damn good person too.

 

* * *

 

Steve wakes to the sound of Bucky speaking softly. The brunet’s sitting at the edge of the bed, phone in hand. Steve stretches and glances over at the clock on their bedside table. 5:37 a.m.

“Hey,” Bucky whispers after he hangs up and turns to see Steve pulling himself into a sitting position. “Go back to sleep, honey.”

“‘S’goin on?” Steve asks, rubbing the sleep from his eyes, and smiles when Bucky sighs and ruffles his hair.

“I know we planned on stayin’ another day,” Bucky replies. “But I think I gotta go back.”

“Is anything wrong?” Steve asks, curling into Bucky’s side and humming as the other man begins stroking his hair.

“They got Pierce,” Bucky says, voice soft, and Steve turns to look up at him so quickly he thinks he might have given himself whiplash. “And he wants to talk to me.”

“What are you gonna do?” Steve questions, tracing soothing circles against the brunet’s back.

Bucky sighs. “I don’t know. But I know I gotta go back.”

“I’ll start packing our bags,” Steve pulls himself up and out of bed and tosses their duffels on the bed. Bucky grabs his wrist, pulling him close.

“You can stay,” Bucky whispers, leaning forward to kiss Steve gently. “Enjoy your day of pampering. I’ll be all right.”

Steve huffs out a laugh and shakes his head. “If you think I’m gonna let you do this alone, you’re an idiot, Barnes.” Bucky opens his mouth to argue, and Steve leans forward to silence him with a quick kiss.

“I’m with you,” Steve whispers fiercely. “‘Til the end of the line, sweetheart.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thank you so much for reading, for your patience and encouragement, and for just being A+ readers.


	17. Free

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Always so ungrateful,” Pierce’s sharp blue eyes narrow at him from across the table. “You’re where you are today because of me, don’t you forget that.”
> 
> “I’m where I am today because of _me_ , Alex,” Bucky thunders, and he’s gratified to see Pierce shrink away from him, eyes wide.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys, I think- I think we're in the home stretch here. There's going to be an epilogue chapter to really wrap things up, but yeah, it's nearly the end. As always, thank you for your patience, your encouragement and your support. I hope you like this update!

“Do  you want me to come in with you?” Steve asks, his voice low and quiet as the two of them stand in front of the door to one of the interrogation rooms in the police station. He’s gripping Bucky’s hands so tight he’s afraid he might leave bruises, but the fear in the other man’s eyes makes him more than a little nervous. “Say the word, and I’m right there with you, sweetheart.”

Steve looks over at Nick, who nods.

“I’m not gonna tell him he can’t go in there if you want him to,” Fury tells Bucky. “But Pierce specifically said he wanted to talk to you alone. That if he got that, he’d take the plea bargain without argument. Steve walks in there, you’re lookin’ at the possibility of this dragging along in a courtroom for months.”

Steve watches Bucky close, observes the way his eyes dart between Pierce sitting in the interrogation room, restrained for Bucky’s protection and then to Steve himself and then finally to Natasha, sitting drawn and quiet in one of the chairs outside the room. The redhead is shaking her head, almost imperceptibly, and Steve sees Bucky’s jaw clench for a moment as he nods to her.  

“How long will the plea bargain put him away for?” Bucky asks, turning his gaze to Fury. “Any idea?”

“Since we’ve got him on attempted extortion and blackmail, assault with a deadly weapon and attempted murder?” Fury quips. “The plea bargain’s 25 years. He might get out early for good behavior, but I’d wager he’ll be in there at least fifteen.”

“Not long enough,” Bucky practically growls, fists clenching at his sides, and Steve wants to hold him, wants to tell him to let that anger go because it’s not worth it. “Not even close, but it’s a start. I can do it. I can go in alone.”

“Buck, are you sure?” Steve asks, gripping the brunet’s shoulders tight. For a moment, Bucky looks uncertain, but then those steely eyes are set, determined.

“Yeah, Steve,” Bucky breathes. “Yeah. I gotta do this. For both of us.”

And then Bucky’s motioning for Fury to open the door and walking inside, and Steve’s heart is in his throat as he moves to the one-way window to watch. He might not be in there with Bucky, but he sure as hell isn’t taking his eyes off him so long as he’s within spitting distance of Pierce. Not a fucking chance.

 

* * *

 

“James,” Pierce is smiling, his voice strangely warm, and it throws Bucky for a moment. The older man should be bitter, angry, cursing Bucky out as the brunet sits down across from him. “So nice to see you again. Shame we keep meeting under such unfortunate circumstances.”

“And whose fault is that?” Bucky bites out before he can stop himself. He takes a deep breath and reminds himself to remain calm, that getting angry will just play right into Pierce’s manipulative hand. “What do you want, Alex? Why did you want to talk to me?”

“To apologize, of course,” Pierce replies, his voice smooth and even, that infuriating smile still on his handsome face. “I’ve seen the error of my ways James. I treated you very poorly. Leaving you like that, coming after you, after Steve; it was wrong.”

“Yeah, it was,” Bucky replies, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning back in his chair. “And I appreciate the apology, Alex, I really do. I’d appreciate it even more if I thought for a second that you meant it.”

“I’m taking the plea bargain, aren’t I?” the older man practically growls, his cool gone now that Bucky’s angered him. “Isn’t that enough for you?”

“It’s not even close, Alex,” Bucky’s having a hard time controlling the volume of his voice, but he’s not shouting, not quite yet. “After what you’ve done? Christ, I was past you leaving me. I had my life back, and things were getting better. And then you show up with those photos, and you bring back all that pain, all that shame I felt when you left. You blackmailed me, you stole from me, you could have _killed_ the man I love-”

Pierce chuckles, a low, humorless sound.

“ _Love_ ,” he sneers. “You were always such a child about romance, James.”

“God, I almost feel sorry for you,” Bucky huffs out an exasperated laugh. “You’re so cold, Alex. So fucking cold and bitter and alone. You want everybody to feel as shitty as you do, so you tear ‘em down. I let you do it to me for five years. I won’t let you do it anymore.”

“Always so ungrateful,” Pierce’s sharp blue eyes narrow at him from across the table. “You’re where you are today because of me, don’t you forget that.”

“I’m where I am today because of _me_ , Alex,” Bucky thunders, and he’s gratified to see Pierce shrink away from him, eyes wide. “I’m where I am because I have talent and drive and because I’ve built up the right support system since you bailed. Yeah, you got me in to read for _Sudden Justice,_ but _I_ got the part. _Me_ , Alex, _I_ did that. And I’m through letting you take credit for my success.”

Pierce glares at Bucky sullenly, and Bucky sighs.

“And don’t try to pretend you’re taking the plea bargain out of some sense of trying to make amends,” Bucky says. “I know why you’re doing it; you’re doing it because you know a jury’s going to convict you and you’re going to get a longer sentence if this goes to trial. You’re doing it so that you can slip off quietly with a shred of your dignity intact, just like you always do.”

“Oh, yes,” Pierce snarls, slamming his hands down against the table. “You know me _so_ well, don’t you, James? And I know you. And I know you’re going to fail, to let down that support system that claims to love you so much. Because that’s who you are, James. You’re weak.”

“I’m not,” Bucky replies, pushing back from the table and standing up. “I’m not weak, and I’m not a failure, Pierce. That’s you.”

Bucky takes a few steps back from the table, thrusting his hands into his pockets, a solemn expression on his handsome face.

“I’m going to go now,” Bucky says, voice quiet but firm. “I’m going to walk out that door, and you’re going to rot in a cell, and from now on you’re not going to be anything more than a passing unpleasant thought that occasionally crosses my mind. Because I’m done, Alex. I’m done letting you and what you did to me dictate what happens next. There’s a man out there who loves me, Alex, who cares about me for real. And I think I can be happy with him if I just let myself. And the first step I need to take is to forget about you. So goodbye, Alex.”

“James,” Pierce’s voice has taken on a pleading quality as Bucky walks back toward the door. “James, wait-”

“No,” Bucky calls over his shoulder as he opens the door. “No, I’m done waiting for you. I’ve already done far too much of that.”

And as Bucky turns the handle and steps out of the interrogation room, he feels lighter, gloriously relieved of the weight of the past decade of his life here in Los Angeles.

 _James Buchanan Barnes,_ he thinks to himself as he steps through the threshold. _You’re finally free._

 

* * *

 

Before Steve can take a step toward Bucky, Natasha’s sprinting to him and pulling him into a tight embrace.

“I’m so proud of you,” the redhead chokes out, clearly fighting back tears as Bucky’s arms wrap around her. “So, _so_ fucking proud of you.”

Bucky laughs as a couple of tears roll down his cheeks, and Steve can see that he’s shaking with the effort of holding himself upright. Nat must feel him trembling because she walks him over to a chair and gets him to sit. Steve walks over, a wide smile breaking across his face as Bucky looks up at him, beaming through his tears.

“You all right?” Steve whispers, running a hand through Bucky’s hair as the brunet pulls him close, resting his head on Steve’s stomach as his arms snake around the blond’s waist.

“Yeah,” Bucky breathes, holding Steve right. “Yeah, I’m all right. Emotionally exhausted, but all right.”

“Do you need us for anything else?” Natasha asks Fury, brisk but polite, smiling as the man shakes his head.

“Nah, we’re good here,” he replies, and Steve’s astonished to see a small smile on Nick’s face as he looks over at Steve. “Get your boy home, Rogers. He needs a rest.”

“Understatement of the century,” Natasha mutters under her breath, and Steve feels Bucky shake against him with quiet laughter.

“Come on, then,” Steve pulls Bucky up, wrapping an arm around his waist. “Let’s go home.”

 

* * *

 

Bucky wakes the next morning to the sight of Steve’s long lashes splayed across his fair cheeks, lips parted slightly as he breathes slow and even. Bucky smiles at the blond, reaching out to run a gentle finger along his cheek. Steve had been perfect yesterday - perfect through all of this - and Bucky decides he needs to come up with something to thank him for being there.

Of course, Steve will protest. He’ll tell Bucky that he loves him and that of _course_ he was going to stand by Bucky because that’s what you do when you love somebody. Bucky knows this, appreciates it beyond measure, loves Steve more than he can put into words.

But god damn it, the blond is getting a tangible thank you whether he likes it or not. Because that’s what he deserves.

Bucky rolls out of bed, then pulls on a t-shirt and a pair of sweats before padding out into Steve’s living room. Sam’s on the couch with his laptop and he grins wide when Bucky walks into the room.

“Good to see you up and about, man,” Sam says, closing the laptop as Bucky slides on a pair of sneakers. “Whatcha up to so early?”

“I’m gonna go buy Steve flowers,” Bucky replies with a grin. “And something good for breakfast. Maybe a nice watch, I don’t know. I just know the guy’s been a fuckin’ saint and I gotta do somethin’ to show him how important he is to me.”

“Word of advice?” Sam laughs, and Bucky nods since Sam’s known Steve a hell of a lot longer than he has. “The flowers are genius; Steve’s a sucker for those sweet, romantic gestures. Breakfast is good too. But don’t overdo it. You wanna let him know how important he is? You tell him.”

Bucky laughs, shaking his head. “I’ll go with that for now,” he says. “But Steve’s gonna have to get used to getting spoiled eventually. That’s how I am.”

“Well, if he never does get used to it, I can tell you that I will _never_ turn down a nice watch,” Sam smirks, sending Bucky into a gale of laughter so loud he’s afraid he’ll wake Steve.

 

* * *

 

When Steve opens his eyes, there’s a vase of daisies sitting on his bedside table with an envelope addressed to him in Bucky’s spidery-thin handwriting.

 _I couldn’t remember what kind of flowers you liked best,_ it reads. _So, I got a bunch. I love you._

A bunch, it turns out, is something of an understatement. Steve’s room has been overrun with vases of all shapes and sizes. There are classic red roses on the windowsill, along with gardenias and peonies and tulips. Sunflowers lounge in a vase on his dresser beside lilies and daffodils and violets. Dozens of flowers, painting the room in bright, vivid color, all for Steve.

He has to wipe away a tear or two before he can leave the room to hunt down his stupidly sweet boyfriend. Bucky’s in the kitchen, smiling up at Steve as he walks into the room. The brunet's preparing a couple of mimosas with Sam sitting by his side, and Steve's friend is snickering at the look of awe on his face.

“What the hell is this?” Steve asks, a wide smile gracing his features, and Bucky just laughs.

“Breakfast,” the brunet replies, and then he and Sam are cracking up over the _Back to the Future_ reference, tears streaming down their faces. Steve can’t help joining in; seeing Bucky so light and so happy is intoxicating and Steve wishes he could bottle moments like this to save for a rainy day because he never wants to forget Bucky laughing like this.

“Come on,” Bucky motions Steve over, wrapping his arm around Steve’s waist and kissing him soundly before pushing him down into a chair and handing him a plate laden with pancakes, bacon and eggs. “It’s gonna get cold.”

 

* * *

 

“Thank you for the flowers,” Steve whispers into Bucky’s ear as the two of them lay curled up on the couch later that afternoon. Sam’s off on a lunch date with Natasha, which Bucky will absolutely be teasing him about for the foreseeable future, so he and Steve have the place to themselves for a bit.

“It’s a lunch _meeting_ ,” Sam had insisted, biting his lip and unable to meet Bucky’s eyes. “We’re talkin’ about the movie, it’s not a date.”

“Uh huh,” Bucky couldn’t keep from snickering, despite his admittedly-not-best efforts. “Sure, yeah, the movie. Not a date. I got it.”

“I swear to god, Barnes,” Sam sighs as Bucky begins to cackle, then walks off toward the front door and pulls it shut behind him with a resounding snap.

Bucky pulls Steve’s arms tighter around him, pressing back against the blond as Steve rests his chin on Bucky’s shoulder. “The flowers were a thank you, no need to thank me for them. I wanted you to know how much I appreciate you bein’ there through all of this. I don’t know what I would have done without you, Steve.”

“You’d have been all right,” Steve chuckles, kissing the sensitive skin behind Bucky’s ear. “But I’m glad to have been here for you, sweetheart. I love you.”

“I love you too,” Bucky breathes, rolling to face Steve, inhaling his spicy-sweet scent as he buries his face in the crook of Steve’s neck. “So much, Steve.”

“‘Til the end of the line, sweetheart,” Steve whispers as he tilts Bucky’s chin up, and Bucky laughs softly against Steve’s lips.

“‘Til the end of line, doll.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!


	18. Epilogue- For Keeps

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Bucky,” Steve whispers as the brunet turns toward him. Steve looks flabbergasted, completely unsure of what’s happening as he gazes around the garden. “What is this?”
> 
> “Would you be surprised if I told you it’s a marriage proposal, Steve?” Bucky asks, voice soft as he smiles. Steve’s blue eyes widen, so large in his fair, handsome face. 
> 
> “Yeah, kind of,” Steve manages to choke out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It took nearly a month and, like, five or six rewrites, but I finally, finally, finally feel good enough about this epilogue to post it. I am sorry it took so long, but this particular work has a special place in my heart, and I wanted to close it out in the right way. I hope you enjoy it!

“He’s going to change his mind,” Bucky whispers as he glances over his shoulder at Natasha. The redhead chuckles softly, fidgeting with the straps of her light gray dress. “Seriously, Nat, he’s back there right now finally realizing that agreeing to marry me was the biggest mistake of his life.”

“Oh, hush,” Natasha hisses, grin firmly in place as she pinches Bucky’s upper arm. Bucky winces, turning to glare at his friend. “You are both the best things that have ever happened to each other, and he’ll be coming down that aisle to promise you forever any minute now. So quit freaking yourself out.”

Bucky takes a deep breath in an effort to calm his nerves. He knows Natasha’s right; he and Steve love each other and they both want this. Bucky’s being ridiculous as usual. Although, he doesn’t think anyone would blame him for doubting the fairy tale the past year and a half of his life has been, considering the shit he’d been through before Steve entered the picture.

 

* * *

 

After Pierce is put away, things begin to settle. Bucky’s time off from work finally starts to feel like a vacation, particularly when he whisks Steve away from smoggy Los Angeles for a week in Paris. The two of them finally have a chance to enjoy each other fully with zero distractions, and it’s hands down the best trip Bucky’s ever had in his life.

“We should just move here,” Steve jokes one morning as the two of them sit at an outdoor cafe, enjoying pastries and coffee, people watching as they chat. Bucky grins as he bites into a croissant.

“You know, we could if you really wanted to,” Bucky replies, trying not to laugh at the way Steve’s eyes widen. “I mean, it might be tough for you with your business; I don’t know if your clients would be cool with you livin’ halfway across the world. But I travel for work all the time anyway. I don’t _have_ to live in LA.”

“You’d move to Paris with me?” Steve asks, a slow smile spreading across his handsome face.

“If that’s what you wanted,” Bucky answers, reaching out across the table to lace his fingers through Steve's. “If it would make you happy. Steve, I’ll go anywhere you wanna go.”

“God, I love you,” Steve sighs, leaning forward to kiss Bucky, smiling against the brunet’s lips.

“Love you too, doll.”

 

* * *

 

Bucky does some work on a couple of indie films and miniseries throughout the winter and spring months -small, but interesting roles that don’t take too long to film- taking another break the following summer. After a decade of nearly non-stop work, Bucky’s finally taking the time to enjoy his success. Possibly because he finally has someone to share all the good stuff with.

Production on Peggy’s new film - _The Curious Demise of Hattie Baker_ \- begins that September in Cape Cod, and Bucky can’t believe his luck. The cast and crew are some of the kindest, most talented people he’s ever worked with, and he thinks the movie’s going to be incredible. A black comedy about two siblings trying to figure out who murdered their wealthy mother, it’s darker (and arguably funnier) than anything Peggy’s ever written, and Bucky’s enjoying the experience immensely.

Almost as immensely as he enjoys teasing his director about his budding relationship with Bucky’s agent. Which is saying something.

“You know,” Sam sighs as Bucky makes kissy faces between takes one weekend when Natasha flies out to visit the set. “If you keep this up, I’m gonna be tempted to fire you. Even if you _are_ perfect for this role.”

“You won’t,” Bucky chuckles. “Peggy’d kill you, and so would Angie. Steve and Nat, too, for that matter. Besides you’re gonna pull the same shit when Steve makes the trip, so don’t even start with me, Wilson.”

Despite the fact that Steve does visit the East coast several times throughout filming, it’s still the longest two and a half months of Bucky’s life. So, he doesn’t really think he can be blamed for leaping into Steve’s arms when the blond shows up on their last day, loving the way Steve laughs and grips him tight as Bucky latches onto his boyfriend like a barnacle to the hull of a ship.

“Missed you too,  Buck,” the blond murmurs against Bucky’s neck, and he can feel Steve’s smile on his skin.

 

* * *

 

Filming wraps just before Thanksgiving, so Bucky and Steve rent a car and drive down to Brooklyn to spend the holidays with Bucky’s family. Winifred Barnes takes to Steve immediately, doting on the blond throughout their visit, doing her best to make him feel welcome and part of the family.

“She reminds me of my mom,” Steve whispers as they lie curled together in Bucky’s childhood room the night before Thanksgiving. Bucky reaches out to Steve brushing a tear from the blond’s cheek.

“I wish I could have known her, Steve,” Bucky peppers kisses all over the blond’s face as he pulls him close. “She was clearly a wonderful person considering the way you turned out.”

“She was,” Steve breathes, a small smile on his face. “Your dad’s interesting. Little harder to read than Winnie.”

Bucky laughs at the worry in the blond’s eyes, placing a quick kiss to Steve’s lips. “He is, yeah, but I can tell he likes you.Just takes him a while to warm up to people, that’s all.”

The next night, as Steve and Bucky are helping to set the table, George Barnes pulls his son aside and into the living room for a moment, grinning.

“You’re happy,” he says, clapping a hand on Bucky’s shoulder. It’s not a question, just an observation on his father’s part.  “He’s good for you, this one. I haven’t seen you this relaxed since before you left Brooklyn, kid.”

“Steve’s a special guy, dad,” Bucky nods, smiling. “And, uh, I think he’s gonna be around for a long time, so I hope you like him.”

“Buck, he’s polite, he’s a hard worker, he likes baseball and he loves you,” George chuckles. “Honestly, that’s all I need in a son-in-law.”

Bucky nearly swallows his tongue and he can feel his face flushing. “Dad, that’s not- we haven’t even really talked about-”

“But you’ve thought about it,” George grins, his stormy eyes -so like his son’s - sparkling with amusement, and Bucky huffs out a laugh.

“Of course, I have,” Bucky replies, gaze flicking to where Steve and his mother are giggling over something as she sets a covered dish on the table. “I mean, come on, dad, look at him. After the shit I put myself through, I’d be crazy not to lock down the best thing that’s ever happened to me, right?”

“Well, you’re certainly not going to get an argument from me,” George laughs, winking. “And your mother’s probably already started knitting something for the first little one you two adopt.”

“Jesus Christ,” Bucky runs a hand across his face, motioning his dad toward the dining room table. “Clearly I inherited my lack of chill from the both of you.”

 

* * *

 

“You’re going to what?!” Maria exclaims as Bucky sits in the chair across from her desk in mid-December. There’s a wide smile on the brunette’s face and her eyes are shining with excitement. Natasha sits on the small couch by Maria’s door, Sam at her side with an arm around her shoulders.

“You deaf, Hill?” Natasha jokes, giggling as Sam pokes her side. “He’s gonna propose.”

“When?” Maria asks, a little breathless. “Oh, god, this is great. I mean, yeah, it’s always nice to have something positive to tell the press,” she waves her hand dismissively, “But, Bucky, I’m so happy for you.”

“Right around Christmas,” Bucky chuckles. “My dad actually got me thinkin’ about it, and I think we’re ready to take the next step. At least, I hope we are. And, let’s not jump the gun or anythin’. He’s still gotta say yes-”

“He will,” Sam rolls his eyes as he smiles.

“Before the press hears,” Bucky finishes. “Seriously, everybody keeps this under their hats; nothin’ leaves this room. Last thing I need is Steve comin’ home with a bunch of tabloids that say we’re engaged before I even get the chance to do it right, you know?”

“Mum’s the word,” Maria grins, Sam and Natasha nodding along with her. “God, I can’t wait. I love writing engagement announcements. It’s so much nicer than when somebody gets arrested for a DUI and I have to do damage control.”

 

* * *

 

The two of them are back in Brooklyn for Christmas, staying with Bucky’s parents until the New Year. There’s a ring burning a hole in Bucky’s coat pocket as the two of them stroll through the streets of Brooklyn, heading to a party at Peggy and Angie’s spacious apartment in Williamsburg.

“Hey, look at this,” Bucky grins as they approach a small, gated garden about a block from the girls’ building. “Come on, let’s check it out.”

“Buck, we’re already late,” Steve sighs, checking his watch. “And this is a private garden. Hence the gate.”

Bucky pushes the metal entrance open, a  Cheshire Cat grin on his face. “Would you look at that, it’s _open_ , Steve. Let’s live a little; they won’t miss us for a couple of minutes.”

Steve huffs out an exasperated laugh, but allows himself to be tugged along. “You’re so weird sometimes.”

When the two of them reach the center of the garden, a large stone fountain begins to gurgle merrily and twinkle lights sparkle in the dark, illuminating the snow covered trees and giving the garden an ethereal glow.

“Bucky,” Steve whispers as the brunet turns toward him. Steve looks flabbergasted, completely unsure of what’s happening as he gazes around the garden. “What is this?”

“Would you be surprised if I told you it’s a marriage proposal, Steve?” Bucky asks, voice soft as he smiles. Steve’s blue eyes widen, so large in his fair, handsome face.

“Yeah, kind of,” Steve manages to choke out.

“Good surprised-” Bucky asks, dropping to one knee and reaching into his pocket for the small velvet box. “Or bad surprised?”

“I’m gonna go with good,” Steve looks like a light breeze would knock him down, but he’s smiling now, really smiling, and Bucky can hardly breathe. “As long as you don’t botch it.”

Bucky laughs, opening the box and holding it out to Steve. “I’ll do my best.”

Steve just nods, breath hitching, so Bucky continues.

“You know me, Steve,” Bucky begins, voice gaining strength with each word. “You know me inside and out. My strengths, my weaknesses. You know my demons because you’ve helped me wrestle with them; you help me fight them every day. And you love me anyway, Steve. You love me the way people are supposed to love, completely and without reservation. And I never, ever want to lose that.”

“Bucky,” Steve laughs, swiping at his eyes with gloved hands.

“How’m I doin’ so far?” Bucky giggles, liking the way Steve laughs through his tears.

“Pretty damn good,” Steve replies, voice shaky. “Now get to the point, Barnes.”

Bucky chuckles, pulling the ring out of the box. “You make me laugh, Steve. You make me happier than I ever thought I could be after what I’ve been through. You’re the best friend I’ve ever had. You make me better, and I want you to keep makin’ me better. All I want is a chance to make you as happy as you make me. So, will you marry me, Steve? Give me that chance?”

“Will you be surprised if I say yes?” Steve laughs, grabbing Bucky’s arms and pulling him up so that they’re eye to eye.

“Yeah, kind of,” Bucky grins, loving the feel of Steve’s hands gripping him tight.

“Good surprised-” Steve chuckles, eyes shining with love and laughter- “Or bad surprised?”

“Just answer the question, Rogers,” Bucky groans, laughing as Steve pulls him into his arms, holding him close.

“Yes,” Steve whispers in his ear. “Yes, of _course_ , I’ll marry you.”

Bucky slides the ring, a platinum band inlaid with three small diamonds, onto Steve’s finger, and he smiles as the blond looks at it, stunned and ecstatic that this is all going so well.

Then, Steve’s mouth claims his in a sweet, lingering kiss, and Bucky never wants this moment to end.

“Do we have to go to this party?” Steve murmurs against Bucky’s lips. “Because I really just want to take my future husband to bed.”

Bucky nuzzles his nose against Steve’s grinning. “Well, I’d say no, but considering that my parents and all of our friends are there, even the ones from LA, and it’s sort of an engagement party...”

“I thought you said you’d be _surprised_ if I said yes,” Steve giggles, kissing Bucky briefly before stepping back and twining their fingers together. “And yet you have a whole party planned as though you had no doubt I’d accept your hand.”

“I’m an optimist, Rogers,” Bucky grins, then tugs him out of the garden. “Now, let’s go celebrate for a couple of hours and then _maybe_ you’ll get some action.”

 

* * *

 

They settle on a date in early June and begin planning. Steve bites his lip and frowns when Bucky asks him to describe his dream wedding.

“I think we should try to keep it simple,” Steve begins. “I don’t want us to overspend, you know?”

Bucky barks out a laugh, tossing an arm around Steve’s shoulders as they lounge on his couch. “Steve, honey, please don’t worry about the money, all right? I’ve been in two big action franchises. I’ve invested well. We can get married anywhere, any _way_ you want; money’s no object.”

“Well, I want it to be _your_ dream wedding too,” Steve grumbles, burying his face in Bucky’s neck.

“Long as you’re there, it will be,” Bucky smiles, tipping Steve’s chin up and kissing the blond’s nose.

“You’re the biggest sap alive, you know?” Steve chuckles, nuzzling his nose against Bucky’s.

“You love it,” Bucky replies, leaning in to kiss and suck at Steve’s neck, the breathy sigh escaping the blond spurring him onward as he shifts toward Steve and begins running his hands up the blonds muscular thighs.

“Buck,” Steve groans as the brunet begins unbuttoning his shirt and then bites down gently on his collarbone. “Buck, we’re supposed to be- _shit_ \- we’re supposed to be makin’ plans.”

“You’re thinkin’ too much, Steve,” Bucky purrs. “I think you need to relax before we start plannin’.”

“Bucky,” Steve whines, hips bucking as Bucky palms his rapidly hardening cock and pushes Steve until the blond is lying flat on his back.

“That’s it, doll,” Bucky noses his way down Steve’s abdomen, trailing fiery kisses as he goes. “Just lay back and let me take care of you, and then we’ll get back to work.”

Steve stops protesting once Bucky’s lips wrap around him and begin to suck.

 

* * *

 

“So, are you two excited for the upcoming nuptials?” a pretty blond in a fuschia shift dress asks Bucky and Steve as they walk the red carpet at the premier for Peggy’s film. Bucky’s used to this kind of thing - prying questions from reporters, flashbulbs going off in every direction, the general insanity that is a red carpet event. Steve, however, looks a little like a deer in headlights, completely overwhelmed by the scene.

“We are,” Bucky smiles brightly, squeezing Steve’s hand gently as the blond catches his eye. “We’re really looking forward to starting the next big chapter in our lives together.”

Steve nods, smiling and looking relieved when the woman begins to ask Bucky about _The Curious Demise of Hattie Baker_. Bucky answers questions about the filming deftly, heaping praise upon his castmates, his director and the brilliant screenwriter who’d made it all possible.

They take their leave of the carpet soon after, heading into the venue, and Bucky grins up at Steve as the blond wraps an arm around his waist.

“You’re really good at this,” Steve leans down to whisper in his ear. “How you handle all that, I will never understand.”

“Comes with the territory, doll,” Bucky shrugs.

“Proud of you,” Steve kisses his cheek, and Bucky is _not_ blushing. It’s just too warm out for the tux he’s wearing is all.

 

* * *

 

“Tomorrow,” Steve looks over at Sam as the two of them stand in the kitchen of their home before they head out for the rehearsal dinner. Well, soon to be just Sam’s home, Steve thinks and not without a touch of sadness. “I’m getting married _tomorrow_.”

“You nervous, pal?” Sam grins, sipping from the bottle of beer in his hand as they wait for their driver.

“Yeah,” Steve huffs out a laugh, running a hand through his hair. “I mean, not about marrying Bucky. I’ve never been more sure about anything in my life. I just, the whole center of attention thing always throws me for a loop. Maybe we shoulda just eloped.”

“It’ll be fine, Steve,” Sam grins, squeezing his shoulder. “Soon as you see him at the end of that aisle tomorrow, I betcha nothin’ else will even register in that thick skull of yours.”

 

* * *

 

“You ready to do this?” Peggy smiles as she extends her arm to Steve. The blond nods, and the two of them take their place behind Angie and Sam, Steve’s portion of the wedding party. His friends walk slowly, arm-in-arm, down the aisle at Artesano Iron Works. The venue is simple and classic, just the way he and Bucky had wanted.

But the moment Steve and Peggy begin moving down the aisle, where they’re at couldn’t matter less. Because Bucky’s standing there, waiting for him in a beautifully cut gray suit and the biggest, brightest smile Steve’s ever seen lighting up the man’s face.

Despite his mind being a complete blank as he gazes up at Bucky, his face already aching from smiling so hard, Steve manages to make it down the aisle without face-planting. Peggy turns to him, kissing Steve lightly on the cheek and whispering, “Go get’m,” before she moves to stand beside her girlfriend.

“You ready?” Bucky whispers, reaching out to take Steve’s hand in his own. Steve nods, unable to stop smiling as he places his hand in Bucky’s.

“So ready.”

 

* * *

 

Steve’s _glowing_ , absolutely radiant as he smiles down at Bucky, his fair skin contrasting beautifully with his suit. It’s a shade of royal blue that brings out his eyes to an unfair advantage, and Bucky barely even hears the officiant, a short, dark-haired justice of the peace named Whitney, as the ceremony begins.

He’s at full attention, though, as they begin to exchange their vows.

“I, Steven Grant Rogers,” Steve begins, tears in his eyes as he repeats the words the officiant is speaking. “Take you, James Buchanan Barnes, to be my lawfully wedded husband. For richer or poorer. For better or worse. In sickness and in health, til the end of the line.”

Bucky laughs softly, squeezing Steve’s hands as he hears their small change to the traditional vows they’d decided to recite. His heart is so full of love right now, he might burst.

“James,” Whitney smiles at him, and then it’s his turn and he’s vibrating with the excitement of making it official.

“I, James Buchanan Barnes,” Bucky says, voice shaking a little as he smiles. “Take you, Steven Grant Rogers, to be my lawfully wedded husband. For richer or poorer. For better or worse. In sickness and in health, til the end of the line.”

“The rings?” Whitney asks, and Sam and Natasha hand them to her, smiling at each other in a way that makes Bucky think they’re not far behind Steve and him when it comes to tying the knot.

“With this ring,” Steve slides the simple platinum band onto Bucky’s left ring finger. “I thee wed.”

“With this ring,” Bucky repeats, adding a second ring to Steve’s finger and beaming up at him as he does so. “I thee wed.”

“Ladies and gentlemen-” Whitney exclaims with a laugh, and Bucky can’t help but join her, unable to contain the joy in his body. “I present to you for the first time as a married couple, Steven Grant Rogers and James Buchanan Barnes. You may kiss your husband.”

Steve’s lips claim his quickly and Bucky can’t help the happy laugh that escapes into Steve’s mouth as their friends and families cheer.

“Stuck with me now, Rogers,” Bucky whispers as he leans his forehead against Steve’s for a moment.

“That was the plan, Barnes,” Steve replies, cupping Bucky’s face. “Wanted you for keeps.”

 

* * *

 

 

Steve takes Bucky’s hand and leads him to the dance floor, the smile on the brunet’s face setting loose a colony of butterflies just beneath his rib cage. This man is his _husband_ , and Steve doesn’t think he’ll ever really be able to wrap his head around that fact.

They turn to face each other, and Steve grasps Bucky’s hand with his, settling the other on the brunet’s hip.

“Ready to show’m how it’s done?” Steve grins, leaning forward to kiss Bucky gently as the soft strains of the song Bucky’d insisted on for their first dance begin to play through the sound system.

“It’s perfect,” Bucky had been adamant as they’d argued playfully over a list of classic first dance songs. “It’s exactly right because it’s what you’ve done from the moment I met you. And now I get to do the same for you for the rest of our lives.”

And although Steve, hopeless romantic that he is, had always sort of imagined his first dance happening as “At Last” played in the background, he has to admit that this song truly is perfect for the two of them as Ben E. King’s sultry voice fills the room and they begin to sway with each other.

 _When the night has come_  
_And the land is dark_  
_And the moon is the only light we’ll see_  
_No I won’t be afraid_  
_Oh, I won’t be afraid  
Just as long as you stand, stand by me_

Bucky begins to sing along, laughing as Steve twirls and dips him, then pulls him close.

“So darlin’, darlin’, stand by me,” Bucky’s voice is soft and low in his ear, and Steve shivers a little at the sound of it. “Oh, stand by me. Oh stand, stand by me. Stand by me.”

And Steve knows that no matter what happens next for the two of them, no matter the obstacles life might choose to throw their way, Bucky will always be standing at his side.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you, as always, for reading. You guys are huge part of the reason that writing these stories is so much fun for me, and I couldn't have made it through this one without all of your positivity and encouragement. So, again, thank you.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Reminder that I take requests [here](http://emphasisonem.tumblr.com/).


End file.
